Hard Rain
by AnonymouslyAddicted
Summary: It's raining hard outside; snow might start to fall. Winter has arrived, but it's been so cold for so long now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : TEASER ALERT! It's short, I know. It's all you're going to get for now, until I wrap my head around how I want this to go. I promise I'm going to do my best not to leave you hanging for long. But I warn you right here and now – I am addicted to angst, and this is going to be sad. Very sad. I hope you'll still love me! I'm having a writing block for I Got Nothing Left In Me Tonight, so you'll have to excuse me for dropping it for a while. I'll get back to it eventually.

I'd love to read what you think, as I always do!

* * *

 **Hard Rain**

 _October 10th, 2015, 22:50_

She was sitting in the situation room alone. Someone was threating the government; the President; her. It frustrated her to no end that she didn't have any clue as to who was doing it, and more importantly – why. She let out a sigh – this wasn't going to end tonight. But she needed to take action. She didn't know when they would strike again, and her job consisted of many flights across the world. After barely returning from Iran, she wasn't willing to take a chance now.

" _Dear Henry,_

 _If you're reading this, it means my biggest fear came true. If you're reading this it means either you don't know where I am, or someone had already informed you that I have died. If you're reading this, it means I failed as an analyst for the second time in my life; and this time it cost my life._

 _I'm sure they already told you by now – someone sent a threat by taking over Air Force One. I'm sure you realized soon enough that I knew it meant someone is threatening to take down my plane as well. I hope you can understand that I couldn't let this control me or my work – if I got up on the plane, it's because I had to do it._

 _Please forgive me. I don't know enough right now to tell you what happened, and I'm not sure I ever will. Forgive me for leaving with so little information, for risking my life like this. Forgive me for keeping you in the dark, for not warning you that you might end up losing me. Forgive me for ever taking this job, for bringing this terror into our lives._

 _Henry I know you're probably looking for answers, blaming Dalton for this. Don't. Please. It's not important anymore. You're a wise man, a brilliant one actually. Find an answer, know why they did this. For the country's sake, and for your own piece of mind._

 _Baby, you're the first thing on my mind when I wake up, and the last thing when I close my eyes. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, in my heart. I'm sorry I left without a proper goodbye, without telling you it might be the last time you get to see me, to hold me, to kiss me. God knows how much I wanted to. I love you, and I love the 3 perfect gifts you have given me, more than anything in the world._

 _27 years of marriage, 30 years of friendship. You have been there for every part of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way. You've been there for the laughs and for the cries, for the successes and for the failures, when I was down and blue and when I was happy. You held my hand when I needed support, you whispered soft words in my ear when I was feeling insecure. You loved me like I never thought anyone could; like I never thought was possible. Please know that I died happy, because I got to share a life with you._

 _I have one final request. Henry, you're a good man. The best. I want you to be happy, please. Don't be alone, don't. Find someone, anyone, to fill your heart. I know you're probably thinking that there's no room left, that I have taken up all the space, but Henry, try, please. For me. I need to know you'll be okay. I need to know there's someone out there that will hold you at night, that will kiss you when you wake up in the morning._

 _I will forever love you; I will forever be yours._

 _Elizabeth."_

She left the situation room and headed home. In her hand was the letter she wrote, stains of her tears covering the paper, making the ink smear across the lines of her neat hand writing.

She climbed upstairs to their bedroom, but he wasn't there. She wondered if she'll ever get the chance to know all the secrets he was keeping from her; if she'll live to see the day where they retire, and have all the time in the world to talk. She hid the letter in the sweatshirt that was once his, that held her smell and her hair. He used to take it out when she was gone too long, breathe in her scent, hold it to ease some of the yearning in his heart. She knew it'd be the first place of comfort he would seek if anything ever happened to her.

She was sitting on the bed when he came in silently. He had hoped she was already sound asleep. But he took one look at her to realize she was crying softly, that she was a wreck just like he was. He moved to stand in front of her, his fingers lifting her chin so she could face him. Gently, he wiped her tears from her cheeks. Standing up, he pulled her to his embrace, and she sobbed while he rubbed her back and tried to soothe her. It was all they had left – each other's embrace. And he prayed that it would be enough; that the warmth of his body and the softness in his kisses would take all her problems away; would make her feel safe, even though he didn't know what he was protecting her from.

Broken, they entered the bed and snuggled closer to each other. They did not speak; no words were able to relieve the pain they were feeling; not ones they could say anyway. They did not sleep; their minds were racing, unable to quiet down. They were sharing the same bed, holding onto each other, so so close, but so far apart. It was, the beginning of the end.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** : You're lucky I'm still sick. And that I'm angry about how Conrad is treating Elizabeth. And that I had all night to think about it because I couldn't sleep (being sick kinda sucks!) I'm jumping back and forth in time here, so mind the dates to keep track. Sorry for the mess. Thanks for your kind reviews! Sorry for the tears and heart break! But I warned you – this is just going to get sadder as I go. I'd love to know what you think of this!

* * *

 _War College, December 10th, 2015, 14:07_

"Dr. McCord" Frank called as he approached Henry, who was just leaving the college. It was a rough day – Dimitri was thinking of quitting. Again. He wanted to tell that boy to grab his things and leave, to get his life back. Hell, he wanted his life back. He regretted ever taking this job. He missed being just a professor at Georgetown. He loved walking around the campus without a care in the world. He loved coming back home to his wife, and actually share the details of the day. He was teaching at the war college for almost a year now. He was an active handler for 6 months. He hasn't slept properly for 5. He hadn't told his wife a piece of information about his life and he was beginning to wonder if she even knew who he is anymore.

"What happened to my wife?" he blurted out. Recent events flashing before his eyes, his mind searching for any clue he could find as to what had happened to her. She traveled to Kiev, again, to try and work out the Russia problem. In the light of information he received from Dimitri, it wasn't a surprise she was needed in Kiev, and he wasn't surprised either when her trip had no end date, and she was gone for almost two weeks. He hasn't spoken to her in since the night before, when he was finally able to call right before she woke up and hear her soft mumbles as she was brushing the sleep off. He'd given up on asking her when will she return, it had frustrated her just as much as it frustrated him. They missed each other so much and he couldn't help but wonder if it was just the physical distance that was responsible for this, or was the rift between them taking its toll.

"I need you to come with me Dr. McCord" Frank said, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. He had known Henry for a long time now. Being the head of Elizabeth's detail, he spoke to Henry occasionally, providing him with information about his wife's whereabouts and well-being. He knew details about Elizabeth – but the instructions were clear – this information could not get out, not until they know something solid. He had to get Henry to the White House, and hope the President will share all the information they had regarding his wife.

"Frank!" Henry yelled. "Where is my wife?"

"Dr. McCord, I'm sorry, I need you to come with me and I promise you'll get the answers you need".

Sighing in frustration, Henry joined Frank as he began walking towards the SUV. He felt his knees weakening and he was grateful when he finally sat at the back sit of the car. He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling nauseous, and closed his eyes, the image of his wife appearing before his eyes.

 _November 26th, 2015, 21:35_

He came home to find the bed empty. They have been texting for a while during the day, but his phone died and he was too lost in his thoughts to even notice it. When they shut the lights in his office he realized it was late, and it was time to go home. He suddenly realized he hasn't heard from his wife in a long time, and reaching for his phone he intended to text her. Finally arriving, he had hoped to find her in the kitchen, and then lying on the couch doing nothing, and when she was nowhere to be found, he had hoped she was sound asleep in bed. But the lights were out, and he couldn't spot any sign of her ever being in this room.

It took his phone 2 minutes to turn on once he plugged it in.

" _Hey baby, tried calling you, your battery must've died. I've got a long night at the office, don't know when I'll be back. Don't wait up for me. Love you"._

He dialed her number but went straight to voicemail. It's been three hours since her text, she could be stuck in some endless meeting at the White House, or, if he was lucky, she could be on her way home. But as time went by and there was no sign of her he sighed. He already took a shower, finished reading the papers his students submitted and watched every stupid show he could find on TV. Turning his phone on, he noticed it was past midnight. She was serious when she said not to wait for her. But He wanted to see her so badly.

" _Babe, any chance of you ever coming home? I miss you here"_ he texted.

10 minutes later and his phone vibrated in his hand. _"I'm heading out just now. Sorry for being so late. I'll see you soon. xoxo"_.

"Hi" she whispered as she closed the bedroom door behind her. She smiled softly, but he could see behind her smile tears and agony he hadn't seen in a very long time. She couldn't tell him, that's why she was smiling, he realized soon enough. She was trying to avoid his questions, his searching eyes. He got up from bed and went to her, taking her in his arms, holding her close. She let out a breath and he just tightened his grip around her, kissing her hair.

"Hi yourself" he whispered back. She looked at him and he bent down, kissing her lips softly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, nudging his lips open with her tongue, deepening their kiss. Pulling away for air, he looked at her, his eyes staring right into hers – so blue and bright, yet this darkness clouding them, making him shiver. "Babe?" he asked as his hand stroked her cheek.

"Make love to me tonight, will you?" she breathed, pulling him closer to her again.

As he stripped her, he used every moment he could to drink in her sight, to touch her gently, to cover her with all the love he had to give. And then later he made love to her, his touch so gentle against her skin, his movements slow. She thought she might break just from the way he was treating her, as if she was so fragile. And once they were done, he pulled her closer to him, pulling the cover on top of them, stroking her arm as he felt her chest heaving, as her warm breath tickled his skin.

"I have to go tomorrow. I'm leaving for Kiev" she murmured and he nodded. He was all too acquainted with her schedule, with how quickly it changed, of how much it took from her. He couldn't, though, say he was used to it. They barely saw each other as it is, so each time she left like this, on such short notice, he wanted to hold her still and never let her leave. He hated watching her pack; he hated when she kissed him goodbye; he hated closing the door behind her as she drove off. He hated it mostly because once, when he did this, he thought she would never come back again.

 _Oval Office, White House, December 10th, 2015, 14:07_

"Henry" Conrad called as he entered the oval office. Russell was there, and that new guy – Craig. He never met him, but from what he heard from Elizabeth, the guy was a pain in the ass, and Henry didn't like him one bit.

"Where is she?" Henry fired. He had no intention of being polite, or respectful. If anything happened to his wife, Conrad was to blame. He was giving her the cold shoulder for quite a while now, making sure she knows where he stands – he was gunning for presidency, and he wasn't going to let her stand in his way. He was going to do whatever it takes to get there, on her account, if necessary. He had seen and heard the way Conrad spoke to her, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to make her feel even worse than she was already feeling. One day or the other, he knew it, he would snap at Conrad, and let him know exactly what he was thinking. This was not the time for it, even though he wanted it to be.

"Henry sit down, please".

Crossing his arms, he refused to move. He looked at Russell and then at Craig, anger firing from his eyes.

"Give us the room, will you?" Conrad said to Russell and Craig. Henry almost wanted to laugh at this; Elizabeth has been trying to get some time alone with him and work things out for over a month now, but he was constantly surrounded by his little team. And just like that, he cleared the room. What was he thinking? That it was going to gain him points with Henry? He was furious. He wanted answers, and he wasn't going to leave until he got them.

"Henry, please" Conrad said, motioning the couch.

Realizing this was the only way he was going to get answers, he sat down, at the edge of the couch, his leg moving fidgety. "Conrad, tell me what the hell happened to my wife!" he raised his voice. He was about to lose his temper, and that almost never happened.

"Her plane left Kiev 10 hours ago. We lost all communication with it 8 hours ago. We have been trying to get the connection back up but nothing so far. The F-15 jets are already on track of her plane, but it hasn't been spotted yet. We don't know where she is".

"You waited 8 hours to tell me my wife's plane is missing?!" He screamed, his hands closed in fists, anger taking over him.

"Henry, I'm sorry. We were trying to spare you the worry. We decided that after my plane went missing and they found it not long after, that it wasn't worth worrying you. They did this drill with Air Force One as well, and we figured if they saw the F-15 heading their way, they'd back down".

"Who is _they_? What are you talking about?"

"Elizabeth didn't tell you? Hackers took over my plane, they used some sort of malware and shut all communication down, and we recently discovered they had full control over the plane. But as soon as the F-15 came near the plane, the hackers turned off the malware".

Henry had to take a deep breath, his nails digging into the skin in his hands. He wanted to push Conrad against the wall the cause him serious pain. He had to remind himself that Conrad was still the President, and he couldn't just lash out like this. "You _knew_ someone was trying to hurt you and you _still_ sent her? Thinking what? They'd spare her?! Listen to me, listen very carefully. You are going to work day and night to find her. I don't care what you have to do, you will figure out who these hackers are and what they want and you're going to give it to them. You are going to find my wife and I'll be damned if you don't bring her back alive. Because if you don't, Conrad, then her blood is on your hands. You sent her, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it".

Conrad nodded. He didn't know what else to do or say. Truth was he discussed this with Elizabeth and they both decided to take the risk. But being the President, he was the one to sign off on it, and hence he was responsible. It was stupid to take such risk. No crisis was worth her life, not to mention the damage it would cause the entire administration.

"And I want Sterling out" Henry blurted.

"What? Why? He's the National Security Advisor Henry. That's his job".

"I don't give a damn. That guy was out to get my wife and I wouldn't be surprised if he was secretly rooting for this to happen. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he had something to do with it. I want him off the case, or I swear to god I'll take him off myself".

"Okay, fine. I don't know what you think Craig has against Elizabeth, but I'm not going to argue. He's off the case".

"Good".

"I need you to keep quiet about this, is that okay? For now?" Conrad asked.

"And I need an update every hour. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes".

On the ride home he finally allowed himself to break, sobbing at the back seat. He suddenly remembered their night before she left, how she had asked him to make love to her, and what she was really asking was for one last final goodbye. She _knew_ , he realized. She knew and she still went.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** : Welcome to the Arabic lesson of the day! No I don't know Arabic (well, I actually do, but I'm way too rusty to actually write anything) so I asked my friend for some help :) There's English translation, I just thought it was cool, mostly because Elizabeth does speak Arabic! Okay, so this update is mostly "action" and less angst. Getting back to the angst next chapter. Can I just say how hard it is to write angst when Tim's posting this prefect picture of them being so happy together? Well, I hope you like this one. Comments warm my tiny little heart (and throat, I still have no voice!)

* * *

 _Damascus, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 7:00_

"هل الأمريكيون قد علموا أن وزيرة الخارجية لهم توجد لدينا?"

("Do the Americans know we have their Secretary already?")

"لا, لم يعلموا بعدُ"

("No, not yet")

"والقائد?"

("And the Chief?")

"إنه في طريقه".

("He's on his way".)

"فماذا نفعل معها وطاقمِها?"

("So what do we do with her and her staff?")

"طاقمها لا يهمّنا. سنفرج عنه بعد أن يتّصل القائد برئيسها. ولكنها ... إنها قصة مختلفة. منتمية لل-CIA سابقًا، وزيرة الخارجية حاليًا، درجة عظيمة من الطاقة في امرأة صغيرة واحدة . وبإمكاننا أن نفعل بها أي شيء أردناه".

("Her staff is not important to us, we will release them after the Chief contact her President. But her... She's a different story. Ex CIA, current Secretary of State, so much power into one tiny woman. And we can do whatever we want to her".)

Waking up slowly, Elizabeth tried to hear the conversation. She was trying to asses where she was and how did she end up there. The last thing she remembered was being on the plane when the air suddenly felt thick and she couldn't breathe. Her staff was screaming, her detail trying to move and help her, but she knew it was coming, and she was too tired to fight it. Her eyes closed slowly, her head heavy on her shoulders, and soon everything turned black. She was fighting the urge to scream and fight against her restrains. She knew too well the less attention she would attract, the better her chances were at not being beat up, or worse. Besides, she figured, they didn't know she spoke Arabic so fluently, so maybe, just maybe, they'd give her some information.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 00:03_

"Isabelle" Henry called as he opened the front door, almost falling into her as she reached for a comforting hug. Isabelle and Elizabeth were best friends for years. They met when Elizabeth was first recruited to the CIA, Isabelle was new as well, and they bonded immediately. It wasn't long before Henry got to know Isabelle and she practically became family. She was there, always. Even when she was stationed in London, she never lost touch with Elizabeth, and she was a crucial part of Elizabeth's investigation into Marsh's death.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, walking into their living room. Isabelle didn't know Elizabeth without Henry. When she first met Elizabeth, she was already married to him. At first Isabelle thought the novelty of being a newlywed would die down. Truth was Isabelle never believed much in true love or marriage. She was busy with her work and she didn't see the point in settling in and having a family. She had relationships, or like Elizabeth always teased her – she had company when she was feeling lonely. But all in all, marriage was off the table, and she'd cut the relationship off if it ever got too serious. But with Elizabeth and Henry, that was different. She kept waiting for them to stop being so in love with each other, to stop being so perfect together. But soon enough she realized some people _are_ made for each other, and Elizabeth and Henry were one of those rare people. When she got to know Henry better, she understood exactly why. Henry was one of those rare men that would actually make her think about settling down. And after all these years, she didn't know Henry without Elizabeth. After Iran, she realized they really can't exist without each other. It was too painful.

"Barely hanging" he whispered, his voice breaking. Since he returned from the White House with the news of his wife, he was holding it in. He didn't want to tell his children about what happened just yet, he needed more information, and he promised Dalton he would keep it a secret. Luckily for him, Isabelle was assigned to handle the investigation, probably another one of Dalton's ways to make Henry quiet, and she called him to let him know he can talk to her, because she knew.

"Are you sure you want to be a part of this investigation?"

"Isabelle. I need to find her. I… I can't not find her. She has to come back. I… I can't… I can't picture my life without her".

"Okay" she nodded, "let's get to work then".

"So, do you think she was conducting an investigation of her own?" he asked as they settled on the couch in the living room.

Isabelle smiled. "Ah. You _know_. Did she work with you?"

"No. Not directly anyway. She called a few times and asked some vague questions, nothing direct. It was top secret, and the NSA handled it. Well, that was until _someone_ demanded to take off the National Security Advisor".

"Isabelle, there's something off about this guy. I can't stand him. And you know Elizabeth didn't like him either".

"Can't blame either one of you. The guy is a smug, I couldn't stand him either when he was at the Company" she said, offering a smile. "Anyway, I studied most of the details just now, and it's pretty much what Dalton already told you. And as much as I want to go along with you theory that Sterling has something to do with it, he's clean, I checked. So unless Elizabeth told you something, we're back at square one".

Henry got up and went to their office. Aside from the bedroom, this was probably his favorite room in the house. It held so many books they purchased over the years, it was their own little space where they could work, but still be together. She had a folder on her desk; he must've seen it a hundred times, but never paid much attention to it. Until she went missing. Then he frantically searched for the folder, only to find it on his desk, under his loads of paper. _She left it_ he realized soon enough. Returning, he handed Isabelle the folder, a post-it saying "Open if…" stamped on the cover.

"Did she give you this?"

"She left it for me to find it. Leave it for Elizabeth to leave clues behind her. I still can't wrap my head around the idea that she knew. You know, when she left for Iran it was a possibility, but she assured me they have taken every measure possible so that no one knows she's there. And no one knew. She was hurt only because she was at the wrong place at the wrong time, no one tried to intentionally hurt her. But this is different. She knew someone was out to get the President, and her as well. And she knew they planned to do it by taking off the President's plane, but since he's not flying anywhere, they'd settle for her. How could she get on that plane? I just… I can't believe she left like this".

"Henry, you know her longer than I do, and we can both agree Elizabeth was never one to stop at any threat. Besides, if she had any lead about what was going on, she'd want to go check it herself, and what better way to do it than to play into their little game".

Henry sighed. Isabelle was right. It's not that it was a big surprise Elizabeth did this. But after all these years, Henry hoped that their relationship and their family would be enough to turn off that burning fire in her bones to solve all of the world's mysteries.

"So what am I looking at?" Isabelle asked.

"Well, if I understand correctly, that's a binder. You said you ran a background check on Sterling, but there are things the CIA doesn't look into. He's not dirty, you wouldn't find anything in here that suggests he is involved in anything illegal. But the guy sure has a lot of resources to pull off pretty much anything he wanted, and make sure it never trails back to him. She marked a few things she found suspicious – like the fact that he worked for the CIA for a short time, and then left to be a business man, only to return as a National Security Advisor, so long after; and the fact that we both know the governmental salary doesn't afford you all the property he's owning; and of course that last part, and you can tell it bothered her the most".

"He's gunning for presidency" Isabelle said, looking at Henry as they both let this sink in.

 _Oval Office, The White House, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 02:30_

"The plane just crushed into the ocean. It's burning up in flames as we speak" Russell called as he entered the Oval Office.

Dalton's eyes opened wide, and he had to lean against his desk to keep from falling. "Any survivors?" he asked.

"We don't know yet. We sent the Navy there, but the fire has to die down before they can start looking. It doesn't look promising, I have to say".

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 02:45_

" _Elizabeth?"_

" _Hey stranger. How are you?"_

" _Elizabeth baby! Where are you? Are you okay?"_

" _Yes I'm fine, don't worry about it. I just called to say we're on our way home, I'll see you soon okay? I love you so much Henry"._

" _No, honey, don't hang up, stay with me, I need to know where you are! Baby! Please!"_

" _Henry, I have to go. Pick me up, will you?"_

Henry awoke to the ringing of his phone. He had to blink and sit to realize it was only a dream. Elizabeth was still missing, and for all he knew, she could be dead by now.

 _Damascus, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 9:00_

"Well, if it isn't the Secretary of State, Elizabeth McCord. It's nice to finally meet you in person. I'm Vladimir Petrovsky".

Elizabeth stared at him, blank. She tried to remember if she ever saw his face or heard his name, but he wasn't familiar, which means he was a new terrorist, still unknown to the US government.

"Ah. You don't know me. I am a high ranked officer at the Russian army. I was asked to take down your President by some very powerful men, and, well, here I am. Since Mr. Dalton refuses to use his plane, I just had to move to my next close target. You. So now we're going to send your little President a video demanding his resignation, or else, he'll have to watch his beautiful Secretary die".

Elizabeth's mind was racing. She was trying to figure out who sent Vladimir, and more importantly, why would someone want Dalton to step out of office. The only reason for Russia to get involved in something like this was if someone at their government knew that the next in line for Presidency was a much better partner for them to achieve their goals, especially with Syria, Iran and Kiev. Too busy in her thoughts, she didn't notice Vladimir was standing so close to her, a knife in his hand. He ordered one of the men she heard before to get the camera set and then he pulled her hair, pulling her head back as his knife settled against her throat. She felt the cold blade pressing against her skin, almost drawing blood.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 11_ _th_ _, 2015, 02:47_

"Henry, it's Conrad. I'm afraid I have some bad news".


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** : Okay I'm trying to make this as logical as possible, but honestly, I've never written suspense and conspiracy before, so I'm not sure I'm making it work. I think I'm going to drop it next chapter since I laid out most of the foundations for this one. I hope I'm doing justice for this story, but please bear with me. Also, I hope to post another chapter soon, since I'm bored and at home. Comments are always a blessing!

* * *

 _Oval Office, The White House, December 12_ _th_ _, 2015, 13:00_

"Where is the video? I want to see the video" Henry said as he burst through the door of the Oval Office. Conrad was there with Russell and Isabelle as they were discussing the ransom video sent to them.

"Henry… I don't think you should see it" Conrad began.

"Conrad, spare the pity. I want to see my wife" Henry fired.

Isabelle stood and walked over to Henry, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Henry, he's right. You shouldn't see it, it won't do you any good".

"I need to see her Isabelle. I have to see her. I don't care what's on that video, I can tough it up, as long as I see her face. Please" he said, his voice almost breaking.

They all nodded and Conrad cleared his chair at the desk as Russell worked to get the video playing again. Henry sunk into the chair, his eyes focused on the screen showing his wife. She was sitting on a chair, her hands tied behind her back, her mouth covered. Her head pulled back from her hair, a knife cutting at her throat. He could've sworn he saw blood. And then the hand that was holding her head began trailing down her body, touching her shoulder and her neck and then went into her blouse, cupping her breast. Elizabeth closed her eyes then, and it took Henry everything he had to not throw the screen against the wall. "If you don't do as I said" said the man in the video, "I'm going to first have my way with your beautiful Secretary and then I'm going to cut her throat and leave her here to bleed to death. And make no mistake, I'll be filming everything so the images will haunt you for the rest of your life".

As the screen went black, Isabelle walked over to Henry, resting her hand on his shoulder, hoping it would comfort him, but knowing nothing could comfort him at that moment. Henry closed his eyes and breathed heavily. He wanted to cry, to scream, to break the wall, to do anything but to keep sitting in that chair while his wife was at the hands of this man.

"Conrad" Henry said as he stood up, "I'll be damned if you resign".

"Henry, you're the one who said I must give them whatever it is they're asking for, just to bring her home. And I didn't argue. I'm not arguing now as well. This chair isn't worth her life. Nothing is. Russell is setting up the speech, and I'll resign before his deadline is over".

"No!" Henry called.

" _Why_ not? You heard him, he's going to kill her if I don't".

"Conrad! He's going to kill her either way! Because whoever is replacing you is someone _they_ want, someone that serves _their_ interests, and killing her will only do them good. He's not going to get anything if he kills her before you resign, so you need to stall them, until we can figure out where she is and what will they gain from your resignation".

"I agree" Isabelle said, nodding.

"I'm not sure I'm following. The next in line is Vice President Mark Delgado, what does he have to do with the situation in Russia?" Russell asked.

Moving to sit next to Isabelle, Henry sighed. He was hoping they'd have more time to figure this out because neither one of them still had enough evidence to support their crazy theory and he knew fare well that before you blame the National Security Advisor for conspiring against the President of the United States, you should have a solid ground to stand on. "We have reason to believe Sterling bought him off" he said.

"What?" Conrad jumped. He knew Craig Sterling back from the days he worked at the CIA. He knew the guy had power and money, but accusing him for buying off the Vice President, and for what purpose exactly?

"The Vice President recently encountered some… Financial problems. I understand gambling is involved. Now it may be a coincidence, but he received a pretty high loan from a foundation that is linked to Sterling, and soon after he was chosen as the National Security Advisor, and to my understanding, the VP is the one who recommended him for the position?" Isabelle had to find the right words. Just like Henry, she was feeling uncomfortable with the situation. After working for almost her entire life at the CIA she knew better than to run with a crazy idea without fully investigating it first. But they were pushed to a corner and her best friend was at risk. Isabelle didn't have time to figure out all the pieces of the puzzle, and truth was she couldn't care less. She wanted to release Elizabeth from her captive and bring her home, safe and sound.

"Let me guess, you're also thinking he has something to do with the health issues Darren Hahn's wife has?" Russell asked.

Isabelle and Henry looked at each other. This theory sounded crazy at 3am last night, and it still sounded crazy now. "Darren's wife is completely healthy. They packed their bags and moved to live in a ranch at Austin, owning a property that costs much more than they could've afforded" Isabelle answered.

"Okay, but I don't get why would Sterling do that. All you've provided us with is a series of coincidences, but not an explanation" Conrad said.

"We don't have one yet" Henry said, sighing. He wished more than anything they'd solve this, that they'd know why this was happening and how to get his wife back. But this was well planned and is Sterling was indeed involved, he was doing a heck of a job hiding his footprints.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, October 11_ _th_ _, 2015_

"Morning" he whispered as he felt her stretching in his arms.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Morning" she said, leaning in to kiss him. She could never get tired of waking up in his arms, of seeing his face every morning. She didn't want to live in a world where her mornings consisted of waking up alone, of not sharing a kiss with him, of not feeling the warmth of his body wrapped around her.

They spent a restless night. They dosed off to sleep but only to toss and turn and she wasn't sure what time it was that her mind finally gave in and quieted down to allow her some sleep. Judging from the way his eyes looked, he didn't get much sleep either.

"So are we going to talk about last night?" Henry asked, stroking her arm.

"If only we could" she murmured, still rubbing off the sleep from her eyes.

"Hey" he said, lifting her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I get that we can't tell each other everything, but you crying last night is not something I'm willing to get by. So don't tell me what made you cry, tell me why it brought you to tears. Because when you left for the White House you seemed worried, but not that broken and defeated".

"Henry, you were a mess yourself, so unless you're willing to finally open up to me, let's just leave it at that".

"Elizabeth" he said, sitting up. "I am a mess, yeah. But I'm also new at my job, so I'm guessing that's the reason. I have nothing much to tell you, except for the fact that I'm required to do things I'm not at full peace with and I haven't decided how I'm going to manage that just yet. But you… Babe, you've been doing this for quite a while now, and it takes a lot to undermine you like that. Don't avoid me by making this about me".

She sighed, sitting up as well. "I'm not avoiding by making this about you. It _is_ about you Henry. I… Something happened last night, and it scared me to death, and I wanted to come running to you, but you're so far away, it seems like I can't reach you. You have these moments – your mind suddenly drifts somewhere, and it's a dark place, I can see it in your eyes. And I want you to tell me about it but every time I ask, you avoid the question, giving me vague answers and changing the subject. I feel like we're drifting apart and that only served in adding to my fear. I don't know where you've been last night, but coming home to an empty bed forced me to realize we're losing each other, and it's too much".

He wanted to pull her to his embrace and hold her tight, never let go; he wanted to be with her someplace else, where they could share everything, where they had no worries, where they were just them and nothing could hurt them. Her words cut through his heart like a knife. He had his feelings all bottled down for the past few months because he thought it was best. He didn't know how to tell her that the man she fell in love with is changing right in front of her eyes. He didn't want to tell her that he was slowly neglecting what she loved most about him. He didn't want to scare her with the acknowledgement that he no longer recognizes himself. Listening to her now, realizing his own action are the ones that brought her to tears, hurt him right to the core. He wanted to promise her she wasn't losing him, but he couldn't, because truth was he was feeling like he was losing himself.

"I have to get ready for work" she whispered, leaning forward and kissing him lightly. She figured it was best to end this conversation, since it only served in scaring her more, in making her worried that her thoughts from last night weren't just a side effect of the news she received at the White House. She really was losing him, and she couldn't bare that thought.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 12_ _th_ _, 2015, 16:30_

Henry was lying in bed, trying to get some sleep. He spent the previous night staring into space, thinking about what he and Isabelle found out. But sleep was so far from him. He kept seeing the picture of the knife held tight against her throat; of the hand that touched her in places only he was allowed to. He could never forget these images and he had only hoped those would be the only things she'd go through until he's able to get her back home to him.

His mind drifted to the night when she wrote him the letter. He remembered how broken she was when he found her in their bedroom; how he tried, the next morning, to reassure her, and how he failed miserably. He couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, if things were any different between them she would've found a way to tell him what was going on; she would've found a way to let him know her life was in danger. And maybe, just maybe, he could've stopped her from getting on that plane, from leaving and walking into this death trap.

 _Georgetown, Sterling Residence, December 12_ _th_ _, 2015, 14:30_

"Vladimir!" Sterling called into the phone. "I understand you haven't heard back from the President?"

"Not yet, but don't worry. We've got this under control".

"Is Elizabeth giving you any problems?"

"Only because we have to resist not to touch her. At your order, of course".

"Don't worry" Sterling said, laughing. "Once the President comes to terms with this little agreement, you're free to do whatever suits you. In the meanwhile, I need her so hold your breath. They have 48 hours to make a move, and once Delgado is at office, we're good to go. You'll have the US support for taking over Kiev and for every move you choose to make in Syria, and I get to be the sole distributor of petroleum to the United States and Europe".

"Maria Ostrov will be pleased" Vladimir said.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** : I have to start by apologizing. I must be high on Advil. I was sure I wrote the scene where he finds the letter in previous chapters! I had to go back only to find out I haven't! So it's a bit of a mess, it was supposed to come earlier time-wise, but, well, it is what it is. I'm sorry about that. And thank you for telling me! I'm jumping back and forth in time and I have to say I'm having a hard time keeping track myself, so please mind the dates. I also added dates and time to the first and second chapters, just to get things in order. So I don't know when I'll get to update this one again. Not because I don't have time, but because I can't seem to decide where I want to take it. I'll do my best to figure it out soon! I hope you'll like this chapter. Sorry for the angst! Please share your thoughts!

* * *

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 12_ _th_ _, 2015, 16:45_

He gave up sleep. It wasn't working anyway. He climbed out of the bed and with heavy feet he walked over to their dresser. He was never one to believe that missing someone could cause such great pain, but suddenly her absence was well noticed – every place of the house seemed off without her. He was never one to believe that receiving news about his loved one would literally make him sick. He never believed in true love. Until the day he met her. It didn't take him long to realize she was the missing part from his life; that she was all he has been searching for; that she will forever be a part of his life, of his heart, of his everything.

He opened a drawer that held her sweatshirts. He laughed. She had so many of her own, yet somehow she managed to steal one of his, and it was the only sweatshirt she ever wore. He took it out, walking to sit on the bed, nuzzling his nose in the sweatshirt. She smelled like vanilla and coconut. God how he loved her smell. He closed his eyes, picturing her as she just got out of the shower; he wraps his arms around her, her back pressed to his chest; she's applying her vanilla body lotion as he kisses her neck and then her hair, smelling her shampoo. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he opened his eyes – if only it wasn't in his mind; if only he could take her in his arms at that moment. He would've never let her go.

It was only when he opened the folding of the sweatshirt that he noticed the letter. With shaking hands, he reached for the paper, opening it slowly as it almost fell from his hands. The stains from her tears already dried, leaving their mark behind. He moved his fingers on them, picturing her crying as she sat down to write it.

He read the letter over and over again until finally he broke down and cried, sobbing into his pillow. He cried for hours, unable to stop his tears. "What have you done Elizabeth? Oh, what have you done?" he cried.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 12_ _th_ _, 2015, 18:15_

"Dad?" Stevie called from behind the closed bedroom door. She knocked a few times, but he was too lost in his thoughts to hear her.

"Yeah" he answered, sitting, rubbing his eyes. He looked like hell – his eyes red and swollen from crying and lack of sleep; he didn't have the time or the will to shave; his hair was a mess.

Stevie walked into the room, and closed the door behind her. She knew better than to let her siblings hear them. "Dad, what's going on?" she asked.

"Oh nothing honey. I'm just not feeling so well, that's all" he said, offering a smile he knew wouldn't convince her.

"Dad, come on. Something happened to mom, right?"

Henry sighed. He had to keep his children away from this; he had to at least try. "No, she's okay. She's stuck in Kiev. Don't worry, really".

Stevie moved to sit next to him, taking his hand in hers. "Dad the last time I saw you like this was when she was missing in Iran. When did you last hear from her? Three days ago? What's going on?"

"Sweetie, I swear, everything is fine" he said. Stevie was too much like her mother, though. She was attentive to how his reaction changed when he was worried or scared.

"Dad" she said, tightening her grip of his hand. "Don't deal with this alone, come on, tell me. I'm old enough to handle it. Is she hurt?"

He closed his eyes. Hurt didn't even begin to describe Elizabeth's state at that moment. "She's being held captive by some Russian guy who is blackmailing the President. And she _knew_ ". He said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak these words out loud.

Stevie's eyes widened. She had to remember to breathe. She was not expecting this and she wondered how her father was able to not lose it. "She knew what?"

"She knew this would happen. She… She left me this" he said and handed Stevie the letter Elizabeth left for him. It was addressed to him; it was his own last small piece of her before she went missing. But he thought it was selfish to tell Stevie about her mother, and not let her have this one last thing of her.

Reading her mom's letter, Stevie's eyes welled with tears. She wanted to scream – how could her mom know and still go? How could she leave them like that? But she looked at her father, realizing he was sharing her thoughts, and what he needed now was her support. She had her ups and downs in her relationship with her mother, but there were always two things she wished to have herself – her strength and her honest, equal marriage. "Dad…" she said, crawling into his embrace, hugging him tightly.

He caressed her, wishing he could've protected her, that he could've spare her this pain that he was feeling. He wished she wasn't forced to grow up so quickly, to face such horrible things. He wanted to shield her, just like he wanted to shield his wife from the horrible things that could happen to her. He wanted to promise her that he would bring her mother home, safe and sound. He wanted to promise her that the thing she feared the most will not happen. But he couldn't even convince himself of that. He didn't know if they would get to her on time, or if she'll really be safe, untouched, by the time they get to her; if they ever do. He wanted the fairytale ending where she runs into his arms as if nothing ever happened and he's holding her close and whispers soft words in her ear. He wanted this to end like it would in the books he used to read to his children before they went to sleep. But he was around long enough to see too many things that don't have a happy ending; too many things that crashed right before his eyes, ruining the lives of the people involved. Even with Iran, it wasn't much of a good ending, not the fairytale kind anyway. Sure, she came back. But at what cost? And with so much damage.

Instead, he just held her tight, hoping to comfort her; hoping she would comfort him. Both of them praying they'd get the chance to see her once again, even if just for a minute; even if just to say goodbye.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, November 20_ _th_ _, 2015, 23:45_

She closed the front door behind her, taking off her heels so she wouldn't make a noise. She had hoped to find everyone sound asleep, but truth was she would've been just as grateful to see that Henry was even at home. She barely got to see him recently. He was constantly sneaking off, returning in the middle of the night without saying a word. If she didn't know better, she would've suspected he was having an affair.

The dim light in the living room told her he was lying on the couch, probably half asleep with his book, waiting for her. She smiled. She wanted nothing more than to catch a minute with him, without interference.

"Babe?" she whispered, walking on tip toes towards the couch.

His eyes were closed, his book opened against his chest. She must've seen him like that more times than she could count. And he always looked so sexy, she thought about leaving him like that. Carefully, she closed the book and set it on the table, then moving to remove his glasses. It was then that his hands wrapped around her, surprising her, pulling her to lie on top of him as his lips captured hers.

"Do you always sneak on men like that?" he asked.

"Hmm, only when they are so damn sexy" she answered coyly. He laughed and kissed her again.

"To what do I owe the honor of finally having you here?" she teased.

"I could ask you the same thing" he smiled wickedly. "I turned my phone off so I honestly don't know if they're looking for me or not. I wanted to be with you tonight".

"Good. Because I missed you so much it's beginning to show" she smiled.

"You know, I'm beginning to think this whole war college-NSA thing was a mistake. With your crazy schedule, I just feel like we never see each other anymore. And all I really want is to spend every minute of every day with you".

"Hey" she said, backing away slightly. "Don't you like it there?"

"I do, but the price is too high" he whispered. It was probably the first time he was admitting this out loud, even to himself. He loved being a spy. He even got used to being a handler. But it felt so lonely. Coming home to her at the end of the day was the best part of his day. And now he barely saw her, and when he did the only thing they could discuss was the kids. He wanted to tell her about his day; he wanted her to tell him about hers. At least when he was teaching at Georgetown he could talk around what she couldn't tell him and still know how her day went, but since they were both dealing with high sensitive manners, and after the fiasco of the Senate hearing, they both decided it was best to not talk about it at all. The only problem with that was it meant they had so little left to talk about. And if that wasn't enough, there was the whole missing her thing that was pretty much killing him. He came close to losing her once, and he swore he would cherish every moment with her, spend as much time with her as he could, for as long as they had each other.

"Henry, we have a lifetime of growing old together. Don't get me the wrong way, I wish we could retire right now and go live at a place with no phones and no internet. But we'll get to do it when we're old. I don't want you to wake up one day and realize you've missed out on the things you love just because of me. It's hard, and it sucks most of the time, but as long as we're doing it together, it makes everything better".

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he said, pulling her to him, kissing her.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 13_ _th_ _, 2015, 01:16_

"King Obaid" Henry said, opening the front door. "Thank you so much for coming. Come on in".

"Dr. McCord, it's nice to finally meet you. I heard so many good things about your wife. Yousif used to tell me stories about her for hours when he came home from Houghton Hall. She sounds great, and I always wanted to meet her".

"Yousif was a good friend of hers, and I had the honor of meeting him. I am so sorry for your loss. I understand your father passed away as well".

"Yes, it's been a rough year. My father was very ill and the death of my brother was too much for him. But he made me promise I will keep the relationship we have with the United States, if only for Yousif and his relationship with Elizabeth. Or Lizzie, as he used to call her".

Henry smiled. Elizabeth went by so many nicknames with the people who knew her over the years. But at the end of the day, she was always his _Liz_ and his _Babe_.

"What can I do to help? You sounded vague over the phone" Ameer said.

"Yes, I thought it was best to talk in person. The situation is delicate. Elizabeth has been kidnapped. We were able to find out the Russians are behind it, but we managed to get an IP of the ransom video they sent us. She's in Syria, we don't know where exactly. I… I know it's a lot to ask, and I wouldn't be asking if her life wasn't hanging by a thread".

"Henry, Bahrain chose not to get involved in the civil war in Syria. It's a political matter".

"I know, and I understand. But please. I can't lose her" he said, his tears choking him.

Ameer sighed. He knew what loss is all too well. "Let me see what we can do, okay?"

Henry nodded. "Thank you. You… I can't thank you enough".

"Let's get her home safe and sound, that's all that matters".

 _Oval Office, White House, December 14_ _th_ _, 2015, 16:37_

Henry must've checked his phone every second. He was waiting for a phone call and time was running out. Dalton was able to earn 12 more hours, but Vladimir was getting impatient and they ran out of moves. If King Obaid failed, it would be the end of her.

"Henry" Isabelle said, resting her hand on his arm. "He's going to call".

"Isabelle, what if it's too late?" he whispered.

"Listen, they had all the intel they need, they're going to get her out of there".

"What if they already killed her?"

"Henry. Don't. Don't do this. We have to stay positive" Conrad said.

He checked his phone again, and then it rang. He was probably holding his breath as he answered, unable to say anything but listen to the voice coming from the other end of the line. "Henry, we have her. She's half conscious, and I understand she needs urgent medical care, but we have her. She's on her way to Bahrain now, we'll get her the treatments she needs. She can't fly all the way home yet. But she's alive".

The phone fell from his hand and he broke down and cried. She was no longer at the hands of Vladimir and his men. But what have they done to her? "Baby!" he cried, falling to the floor, burying his face in his hands and sobbing.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** : Okay. You'll be pleased to know last night's episode finally pinned the ball on my decision, so I was able to sit down and write. That means I'll stop posting stories every 5 minutes (sorry I've been rambling on this past week, I had a lot of stories in my head!) I will try to get to this as soon as possible, and I'm sorry for leaving you hanging. For those of you who talked to me about this fic, I believe you'll understand where this is going. For those of you who haven't – wait for the next chapter. This is going to get sad, and messy, and maybe hard to read. I hope I'll do this story justice, I really do. The first part of this chapter takes place after last night's episode (2x05). I'd love the comments!

* * *

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, October 18_ _th_ _, 2015, 10:15_

It was Sunday morning and Elizabeth didn't get much sleep the night before. She was "weeding". And then she did some crying too. Dealing with matters of state and international crisis was one thing. Realizing you know nothing about your daughter is an entirely different case. She rolled over to Henry's empty side of the bed, resting her head against his pillow. She knew he wasn't there; he kissed her before leaving their bed. But she hated waking up alone; she hated not being able to snuggle to him on a Sunday morning.

"Hey Mom, are you awake?" Alison whispered, peaking her head into their bedroom.

Elizabeth stretched and smiled. "I am. Come in".

"What's with all the bags of clothes outside?" Alison asked, sitting at her mom's bedside.

"I had to clear up some room".

"What for?"

"For all the great clothes we're going to buy. I hope you have no plans for today because you're taking me shopping. I have no clothes for tomorrow morning" Elizabeth grinned.

"Oh my god are you serious?" Ali exclaimed.

"Yes! Go get dressed, I'll be downstairs in a minute. I just need some coffee first".

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Ali called, covering Elizabeth with kisses.

Hours later they were sitting at a coffee shop at the mall, surrounded by paper bags from different stores. "Okay, so I have 5 pairs of pants; 2 new jeans; 15 new blouses and 4 new pairs of shoes. I think I'm set for the next… two years?" Elizabeth chuckled.

"Well, you're set for the next season. We'll have to do this again in the summer".

"It's a date then" Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you for coming with me and picking out all these great clothes Noodle".

"Mom, thank you for taking me. I had so much fun today! And thanks for helping me with my makeup column. I loved trying all these shades!"

"Baby, I had so much fun today, I can't believe I missed out so much. Don't ever wait this long to tell me things like that, okay?"

Alison nodded. "Okay, we have one last store to visit" she said, standing up.

"What? Are you kidding? What more could I possibly need?" Elizabeth said, gathering the bags.

"Lingerie" Alison answered.

Elizabeth stopped at her tracks, staring at Alison, shocked. "Come on!" Alison said, pulling at Elizabeth's hand.

"Sweetie, I'm sure I can master that by myself" Elizabeth said, dragging her feet.

"And yet you haven't bought a baby doll in ages. I fold the laundry sometimes, mom. I'm pretty sure Dad's already bored. Time to get something new".

Elizabeth could feel her cheeks turning red. She made it a mental note to herself to never throw her lingerie with the laundry ever again.

"Oh come on! I'm not dumb, you know. I'd be stupid to think you guys are not doing it just because you're my parents".

Laughing, Elizabeth reluctantly joined her daughter as she dragged her into the lingerie store. After spending so much money, she figured Henry deserves a small treat, and she couldn't wait to put it on for him. Not that these things ever stayed on her long enough. But Alison did not need to know that.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 14_ _th_ _, 2015, 19:58_

"So, is mom going to be on the phone for this? It would sure be nice to hear her voice nowadays" Jason teased.

Henry sighed. He wanted to hear her voice as well. He gathered everyone for a family meeting. It was time to tell them. Not because he wanted to; but he was flying to Bahrain, and he didn't know how long it would be until they return, or in what condition he was about to bring their mother home.

"Jason!" Stevie called.

Silence spread across the room. Neither Alison nor Jason were stupid; they realized right away something bad happened. They listened as Henry broke the news, as he told them their mother was severely injured after being held hostage. They listened as he admitted to not knowing what's her exact current condition, or when she'll be able to come home. They listened, and none of them cried, too shocked to even process the news.

 _Georgetown, McCord Residence, December 14_ _th_ _, 2015, 21:47_

"Can I ask you something?" Alison said, standing at their bedroom doorway.

Henry was packing his bag, almost ready to leave. He was edgy. He didn't receive any news about Elizabeth since she went into surgery and the flight was so long, he couldn't wait to see her already. "Yeah, sure, what is it Noodle?" he said, forcing a smile.

"The night that I had the fight with mom, when I told her she doesn't see me. She knew about this then?"

"Yes".

"That's why she was so occupied? She was worried, wasn't she?"

"Yes, but Noodle…"

"No, Dad, I lashed out and yelled at her when she had this going on. Talk about hypocrisy".

"Hey, honey. Mom's work always consists of things that keep her busy. It doesn't mean you come in second place. She might be the Secretary of State, but she is first and foremost your mother. And you and your siblings come first with her, always have. And you did the right thing telling her how you feel. She was sad you didn't say something sooner. You shouldn't hide your feelings just because mom has some crisis going on at work. She wouldn't want you to".

"Dad I told her she has no interest in what's going on in my life, but I know nothing about her. She's dealing with all these things and I'm troubling her with my stupid peer-mediator and fashion ideas".

"Noodle, none of this is stupid. Your mom loves knowing these things, and you know she's reading your column every week. Honey, it's her job to know these things, to care. Not yours. She's your mother".

"Still. I don't remember the last time I asked her how her day was".

"Well" Henry said, pulling Alison to his embrace. "It's a good thing you have a lifetime of catching up". As the words left his mouth he felt his daughter trembling in his arms as she began crying. He felt like crying too. He didn't even know if that was true, but he wanted to believe it so much. He needed his daughter to believe it.

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, Manama, Bahrain, December 15_ _th_ _, 2015, 23:03_

"Dr. McCord" Ameer called.

Henry walked into the waiting area of the hospital. Elizabeth was just out of surgery and he had yet to meet her doctor. Ameer was there, waiting for any updates. He promised Henry he wouldn't move from the hospital until he arrives.

"Ameer" Henry said, shaking the hand of the king. "It is so good to see you".

"How was your flight?"

"Long. But I'm here, finally. Any news?"

"Just that she's out of surgery, and stable. I'll get her doctor for you, he will answer all your questions".

 _Recovery Room, Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 16_ _th_ _, 2015, 4:45_

He was sitting at her bedside for hours, waiting for her to wake up. She had bandages on her arms and legs, covering the cuts Vladimir inflicted on her skin. She lost a lot of blood after he stabbed her stomach. Ameer's men arrived just in time to save her, just in time to stop Vladimir from slitting her throat. After his men abandoned him, Vladimir realized someone was coming for Elizabeth, and he wanted to deliver a clear message that Russia will not be taken down that easily; that he was a man of his word, and that if the President will not clear his chair, he would not fear to use any measures necessary.

She moved just slightly and he jumped from his chair. She slowly opened her eyes, focusing her gaze on him. He wanted to touch her so badly; to kiss her lips. But he was too afraid to even move; he had to consider every movement he made.

"Babe" he whispered.

She reached for his hand. "Hi" she said, faint smile on her face.

He smiled, blinking back the tears. If he didn't know better, he would've thought he was dreaming. She was there, alive. It was more than he could ask for after the past few days. But she was hurt, so badly, he knew she would never be the same again. "I want to kiss you. Is that okay?" he asked.

Elizabeth nodded. It was all she could think of when she was there, in that apartment. Henry's kisses, his touch, his embrace. She said goodbye to him before she left; she really did. She didn't think she'd live to see him again. But even in the last moments, when she felt the knife nearing her throat, she prayed to see him again, to crawl into his embrace.

He moved closer to her, his eyes still open, looking at her, before gently brushing her lips. "No!" she cried, turning her head away, pushing him with her hand. "No!"

She wanted to be strong. She didn't want to push him. She wanted everything that he had to offer her. But she couldn't. His light touch was just too much. She pulled her hand from his grip, watching as his heart broke, as his eyes welled with tears. But he nodded, taking a step back. He would never do anything to hurt her. Never. Even if that meant never holding her again in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Okay first let's get some things straight – this fic deals with the hard subject of sexual assault. I am not going to go into details so much during this fic, but I am describing a few things. And mostly I'm planning on dealing (if possible) with life after. So if this is too hard for you to read, now will be a time to turn around and leave. If you are staying, I just want to say a few things –first of all, I have some experience with the subject, so some of the things I'm going to write are things I know, and not things I guess. I wasn't sexually assaulted, so that's not where I'm familiar with this subject. That being said leads me to the second thing I wanted to say – I hope I'll do justice to this storyline. There's not going to be a happy fairytale ending to this one. I will do my best to keep it as close to reality as possible. Bear with me, please. I am considering each thing I write, so it takes time (and I have no life thanks to my job) so updates may not come so frequently. I do want to know what you're thinking, and don't be afraid to share if you have any thoughts on the subject or any ideas of things you know, heard or think that would fit here.

To the Guest who asked why my fics are not showing on the main page – some of my fics, including this one, are rated M. The site's default is showing K-T ratings, so my M fics are not showing. You can solve it in one of two ways – you can either go do Filter and then select All Ratings or you can register to the site (it's free and it's easy) and then subscribe to receive notifications whenever I'm posting something new.

Comments. Please please comments!

* * *

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 16_ _th_ _, 2015, 10:19_

"I want to take a shower" she whispered. He was sitting on the chair next to her bed, his mind running wild with thoughts. He didn't know how to handle any of this; he didn't know how to contain the rising anger inside of him. He jumped when he heard her speak. The room was so quiet – no one dared to bother them – and she hasn't said a word or even looked at him since he tried to kiss her and she pushed him away. He wanted to tell her that it's okay, that he understands, but she never met his eyes.

"I'll go get a nurse" he said, getting up.

"No. I want to do it alone". She needed to do it alone. She needed to scrub her skin to make sure his presence is gone; to feel like she washed him away.

"Honey, you can't do it alone, you can barely sit".

She sighed loudly, closing her eyes. "Don't call me _honey_ " she said. Henry shut his eyes, sighing as well. Too many things were going to become a trigger now and he had no way of knowing about them in advance. He hated that he didn't know; he hated the possibility of him saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. "I need to shower alone, please. The nurse… She doesn't scrub hard enough… I… Henry I can still smell his cheap alcohol and cigarettes on my skin".

"Okay… I… Babe?" he began and then stopped, as if asking her if _babe_ was okay. She nodded. "I have an idea – I packed you some clothes from home, and I also packed your body lotion. I… I know it's not the same, but maybe it would make you feel better?" He knew her need for a shower had nothing to do with reality. She didn't smell like alcohol or cigarettes. If anything, she smelled like hospital soap and clothes. But he hoped that the smell of her lotion would take her mind off the idea of his smell on her.

"That's… Um… I could give it a try" she said, nodding.

He reached for his suitcase, pulling the lotion out, handing it to her. He knew it would be hard for her to apply it, every move she made followed by great pain. But he also knew the last thing she would want was for him to rub his hands against her skin. She took the bottle from his hand and turned her look away from him, as if embarrassed.

"Thank you" she said, handing him back the lotion. "That's better".

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 16_ _th_ _, 2015, 17:02_

She fell asleep. She was dozing, moving from sleep to awake, her mind not giving her rest. She was tired from the pain, from the drugs, from everything that happened. But when she closed her eyes she could see nothing but him; she could feel nothing but his hand strangling her as he pushed himself deep inside of her. He forced her to keep her eyes open, to look at him as he threatened to kill her, as he made sure she knew who was in control. But at some point, her body was just too tired, and she fell asleep, tossing and turning, dreaming of that moment over and over again. Henry couldn't watch her. It was too painful to sit there and watch her as she relived the moment, knowing there's nothing he can do to make it better for her; not even hold her in his arms. He wandered around the hospital's corridors; he talked to his kids; he talked to Isabelle. And then he went to church and prayed. He asked God to give her the strength to overcome this; the strength to go on with life after what had happened. He asked God to give him guidance; to help him find some light in this dark path. He needed to believe. He needed to believe she could have a normal life after this; that she would eventually feel better; that he didn't lose her forever. He needed to believe he had it in him to watch her breaking, hurting, suffering, and not pull her to him. He needed to believe God had the answers, because he was helpless.

Going back to her room, he was surprised to find her awake, reading some magazine he brought for her. She looked at him as he came into the room, as he took the chair next to her bed.

"Henry" she said, closing the magazine and putting it aside. "How much do you know?" she asked.

"Not much. But enough to understand what happened. The bruises on your body are…"

She nodded. She was relieved to know he knew at least some of the things. The thought of telling him what happened terrified her to no end. "Have you told the kids anything?"

"I had to tell them about the kidnap because I had to come here. But I didn't tell them about the… I didn't tell them. I didn't know when I left the house, I only found out when I got here".

"Do you think I need to tell them?"

"Babe… you don't _need_ to do anything" he said, sighing. "I… can I hold your hand please?"

"Yes" she whispered, tears in her eyes.

He gently took her hand in his, holding it so lightly. He wanted to allow her to pull away; he wanted to make sure she doesn't feel trapped. "Listen, I don't want you to feel like you need or have to do anything. This is your decision, and your decision only. I can tell you what I think, if you want me to, but it's entirely up to you. And it's okay if you decide one thing and then change your mind. Elizabeth… I… We're going to do everything your way; your pace, your time, your will. I'm not going to do anything without your permission, but I don't want you to feel obligated to agree to anything just because we're married. Okay?"

She closed her eyes and tears streamed down her face. She felt him tighten his grip of her hand, as if telling her he was right there; that she was not alone. If only she could crawl into his arms. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I wanted to be able to… I wanted you to kiss me… I wish you could hold me… But I just… I can't… I'm so sorry" she said.

"No. Elizabeth, don't apologize, please. You've been through enough, don't feel guilty. Baby, please. It's okay, I'm okay. I need you to know it's okay; I need you to do what feels right for you without feeling guilty. This is not your fault. None of this is your fault".

She was crying quietly. She couldn't even look at him. She couldn't bear the sadness in his eyes, the darkness. She thought she wouldn't come back. Thinking about it now, she realized that maybe it would've been better if she hadn't. Maybe she should've prayed for Vladimir to kill her back in Syria. Because what was the point of being alive if you're barely living? She wiped her tears with one hand, not daring to move from his hold. His hand was gentle and warm. His thumb soothing her, rubbing circles over her skin. It was the only contact she allowed him, the only one that didn't send shivers down her spine, that didn't make her feel like it's too much. And he just sat there, not saying another word. Just holding her hand, being the man she fell in love with so long ago.

 _Virginia, McCord Residence, December 25_ _th_ _, 1991, 9:05_

It was Christmas morning. It was already snowing outside, but Henry made sure the house was warm. He felt her shiver in her sleep and pulled the covers on top of her, wrapping his arms around her. She moved closer to him, resting her head on his chest. He moved his hands through her hair and she sighed with content.

"Morning" she mumbled.

"Morning my love. Merry Christmas".

Smiling, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. "Merry Christmas to you too" she whispered.

Last Christmas he was in Iraq. He was recruited the night before. He kissed her goodbye and promised to call every night. And she watched him leave, not knowing if and when she will see him again. They were still newlyweds; 3 years. He was often away for training. But this was different. This was war and she didn't know if he will ever come back. Lying in bed with him now was the best gift she could've asked for. But Henry always knew how to surprise her. He kissed her again before getting up and walking to his closet, taking out a small box.

"What is it? I thought we said no gifts!" she said.

"I know, but I couldn't resist. It's just a small thing, I had to get you something. Open it".

Inside the box she found a necklace with two pendants – one that said "protect me", and another with an enameled heart. She knew this necklace. She bought it for him before he left for Iraq saying she wanted him to have something from her, something that will protect him. He laughed and told her God was protecting him for her, but promised her he will never take it off.

"You got me the same necklace" she said, smiling.

"Yes. I wanted you to have something from me as well, and I wanted it to protect you, from whatever it is that can hurt you when I'm not around".

She smiled and reached for his hand, pulling him back to the bed, kissing him as he lied on top of her. "I also wanted us to have matching necklaces" he said, smiling.

She kissed him again more times than she could count. They stayed in bed that morning, cherishing each other, being grateful they were celebrating Christmas together again.

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 16_ _th_ _, 2015, 18:48_

She reached for her necklace as she thought about that Christmas. She was often reminded of how care-free they were at that morning. He came home and they were together, and it was all that mattered. She didn't want the day to ever end. And every time she felt lonely or sad, or when she missed him, she rested her hand on her necklace, smiling as she thought of the years that passed, of how many things they went through – still together, still very much in love, still having quiet morning Christmas in bed together. She panicked when she didn't find it, when she realized she wasn't wearing it. Her eyes moved rapidly, frantically trying to remember if she ever took it off; if Vladimir did.

"Babe? What?" Henry asked.

"My necklace. Where is it? I can't… Henry I can't lose it" she said, her voice breaking, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Shh, calm down baby. I have it. They took it off when they brought you here. I have it, don't worry" he said, reaching for the pocket of his coat and taking it out.

Letting out a breath, she smiled. "Thank you" she whispered. "Do you mind…?"

He nodded, getting up from his chair, moving closer to her. "Are you sure it's okay?" he asked before he moved his hands to close the necklace on her neck. With her nod, his hands reached for her hair, moving it gently as he closed the necklace. She shivered as she felt his light touch on her skin. He moved his hands quickly and she rested her head back on the pillow. He was still standing so close to her, smiling at her, his eyes met hers. He had to fight against every fiber in his body not to kiss her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her warm lips against his. He needed them to share the same air just to know that she was really breathing. But he slowly back away, returning to his chair. He wondered if Vladimir kissed her, if that was the reason she couldn't let him kiss her now. Or maybe it was just the thought of being intimate with him that scared her to death.

"He didn't" she whispered as he sat down.

He looked at her, wondering how she knew what he was thinking. "It wasn't about sex. It was about power and control. He wanted to make sure I never forget he has my life in his hands, that he can do whatever he wanted, regardless of what I said. It was painful, not just the act itself. All of it. He slapped me and strangled me and pulled my hair. But he didn't kiss me. I just… I can't feel you that close to me".

"Okay. It's okay baby". He had to swallow hard, feeling sick to his stomach as she described what Vladimir had done to her. He knew so little about what had happened and even so it was enough to make him furious. He couldn't understand how someone could do something like that. How could someone be this cruel to hurt a woman like that; to rob her of her free will, of her right to her own body. He never could understand how someone could do such a thing. He always respected her; always got her permission for everything. Even after years of marriage, after everything felt obvious, he always stopped to make sure she wanted it, that she agreed. He hated when he heard the stupid excuse _"that he just couldn't resist"_. Because like she said, sexual assault has nothing to do with sex; and everything to do with control.

"Henry… I'll… I'm going to do my best to overcome this, I promise".

"Babe, I have all the time in the world for you".


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N** : Can I tell you how awesome you are? Thank you so much for all the comments, you make me so happy and you light the fire in me to keep writing! This chapter was supposed to be longer, I mean, I have another part of it ready in my head, but I'm really tired right now, and I really wanted to post. I do hope I'll get the other part written by tomorrow night, so I can post it as well, but in the meantime, I'm posting this. This chapter is a bit more graphic (not of the assault – still not going there), but I hope it makes sense. Like I said – comments make me super happy! So I'd love to know your thoughts!

* * *

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 17_ _th_ _, 2015, 07:10_

"Elizabeth?" He whispered. Her eyes were closed and he wondered if she had fallen asleep. He asked the doctor to give her a sleeping pill. She was exhausted, and he figured it would be the only thing to make her get some sleep. He was lying on a bed next to hers, far enough so she wouldn't feel captured. He reached for her hand, holding her, soothing her, waiting for her to fall asleep. When she didn't answer he finally allowed himself to close his eyes, too tired to stay awake. He hasn't slept properly since she went missing. He couldn't close his eyes since he arrived to Bahrain, learning of the things she went through. He tried not to picture her in that dirty apartment, as Vladimir hurt her that badly. He tried to erase the picture of his hand on her breast from his mind. He didn't want details about what happened; but he needed to know every little thing.

She was sleeping soundly. She did not dream. Or at least she did not know she was dreaming. She woke up as the morning sun lit the room, as the effect of the pill dissolved. She opened her eyes to see him, the man she chose long ago to be her other half. He looked so peaceful, so care-free, as if nothing bad could ever happen. She smiled. It felt like nothing ever happened. It felt like it was all a nightmare, and she was finally able to wake up. He felt her moving just slightly. But being hyper-aware of her, he awoke. Still half asleep, also moving between a dream and reality, he smiled at her. "Hi beautiful" he whispered.

And just like that, reality hit hard. Her eyes filled with tears, clouding at the sound of the word 'beautiful'. She didn't feel beautiful. She didn't feel sexy. She hated everything about her that implied she was any of these things; that she was a woman.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to..." He whispered.

"No it's okay, it's not your fault. I just don't feel very 'beautiful' right now" she said, wiping her tears.

"Baby... You're always beautiful. Always".

"Maybe that's what got me in this trouble in the first place".

"Elizabeth... No! You're gorgeous, and sexy, and it has nothing to do with what he did to you. It has nothing to do with how you look, with what you wore or with what you do. This is not your fault. It's not. This is all on him. All of it. I don't care if you walked around him naked, it still won't justify this. Baby, I am attracted to you on so many levels, but I never once couldn't contain myself. I need you to promise me you will never blame yourself for this. Please".

She sighed. He was right, she knew he was right. She told it to her daughters countless of times- to never listen to those who say that if a skirt is too short or a blouse is too revealing, it's reason for a man to assault a woman. She hated how each time reports came of a sexual assault, the news reporters talked about what she was wearing, what she was drinking, what she was doing. No one ever did that when talking about burglary. But being inside of it, after experiencing it, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Guilty for ever getting on that plane, for the clothes she chose to wear, for being a woman, for looking the way she did. She felt guilty for so many things, this constant realization that she could've done something to stop it; to prevent it.

"Elizabeth" Henry called. He wanted her to answer. He needed to hear her say that she knows it's not her fault. He refused to let her think that, to let her feel as if she had done something wrong.

"I should've never gotten on that plane" she finally answered.

He wanted to tell her that was probably true. But it still had nothing to do with Vladimir did to her. At the end of the day, whatever happened to her there was out of her control and most certainly wasn't her fault. "Baby, it's like saying you should never walk down the street alone in the middle of the night. It's not your fault. It's not".

She didn't get to answer. Her doctor came into the room, ending their conversation. But Henry was determined to see this through and he was going to bring it up again. He wasn't going to let her carry the guilt on top of everything else.

"Mrs. McCord, I'm Dr. Basher Salah. It's nice to meet you" he said. "I'm here to for a checkup. Dr. McCord, if you could please wait outside?"

"No" Elizabeth said. "I want him here".

"Mrs. McCord… May I call you Elizabeth?"

"Yes".

"Elizabeth, I will need to take your gown off, are you sure you want him to stay?"

"He's my _husband_ " she said, her voice firm and assertive.

"Okay" he said. "I'm going to start with your arms, I'm going to remove the bandages, is that okay?"

She nodded and he carefully took her left arm in his hand, peeling the bandage off, revealing a deep cut. He assessed the wound and then carefully placed a new bandage on it. "Does your wrist hurt?"

"Yes" she answered.

"I want to do an X-Ray, I think the bone here might be fractured. I'll send a nurse in to take you. I'm going to look at your legs now. I need to remove the blanket. Is that okay?"

She nodded again. She wanted to tell him to stop asking her if it was okay. He was only doing his job. But she realized he was being gentle, cautious. He wanted her to feel in control.

He slowly removed the blanket, revealing her legs covered with red and purple colored bruises. Henry turned his look away. He couldn't bear this sight. He imagined how Vladimir held her legs so tightly that he caused her these bruises. How she must have fought hard to release herself from him, how that only made him hurt her more.

"Elizabeth, I'm going to need to check your genitalia now, I am going to lift your gown. Do you need a minute?"

"No. I'm okay" she said. She wasn't okay. She shivered every time his hands touched her skin and the last thing she wanted was for him to continue. But she knew she had to let him; he was only doing his job.

"Does the Foley catheter bother you?" he asked.

"Yes. Very much".

"I can take it out, but it means you'll have to get up to the bathroom. Can you do that? Or do you want me to leave it in?"

She wanted to say she could manage. But she had to be realistic. She could barely sit by herself, so standing and going to the bathroom was pretty much off the table. But she hated being attached to all these medical devices and equipment. She didn't even have to look at Henry; he immediately tightened his hold of her hand. "I'll help you" he offered, smiling.

"Okay then. I'm going to take it out, you'll feel a little pressure, maybe some discomfort. But please try not to move, I'll do it as quickly as possible".

Elizabeth nodded but Henry noticed she was stressed. She was holding the sheets with her hand, squeezing hard. She was fighting the urge to push the doctor away; the urge to scream and fight. He moved his chair closer to her bed, stroking her hand lightly. "Hey, look at me okay? It'll be over soon" he whispered. She nodded, meeting his eyes. She took a deep breath as she felt Dr. Salah's hands on her, tears sliding down her face. "It's almost over baby" Henry said. He wanted to hold her, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to do anything he could to make her feel better. The problem was everything he used to do, was bound to make her feel worse now. He was reminded of the 3 times she gave birth, how he was sitting next to her, holding her hand through each contraction. She never screamed. He always wondered how she was able to do it – just squeeze his hand, shut her eyes and wait for the pain to pass. Even during the birth itself, she did as she was told, not complaining once, not crying, not screaming. The only time he saw tears in her eyes was when Alison was born. After 36 hours of labor, she was exhausted. The Epidural was not working and Alison refused to come out. The obstetrician tried to perform Vacuum Extraction, but Elizabeth ended up being rushed to an emergency C-Section, and Henry was forced to wait outside. But not even weeks of pain made her complain. He adored her and admired her for this to no end. Now was no different. She let out a breath as she felt the tube being pulled out, as the pressure finally disappeared.

"Thank you" she mumbled.

"You have some blood in your opening. I'm going to ask our Gynecologist to check you. She's very experienced with sexual assault injuries" Dr. Salah said. He continued his check, removing her gown as he checked the stitches on her stomach and the bruises on her breasts. Henry sat there, watching, drinking in the sight and the extent of her injuries – the stab wounds, the bruises, the bite marks. He felt sick to his stomach; the color drained from his face and he was pretty certain that if he wasn't sitting, he would've fainted.

"When can I go home?" Elizabeth asked.

Dr. Salah smiled. "I need to consult with your doctor, but you're healing well. I'll come again tomorrow morning and maybe I'll discharge you".

"Until then, can we stop with the Xanax please?"

"No… I'm sorry. Not while you're here and not if you want me to discharge you soon. I understand you have PTSD…"

"Had. I'm fine now".

"Elizabeth, PTSD never goes away, you must know that by now. It doesn't take much to trigger another attack, and I need your body to stay stabilized. If you want to go home, you have to take the Xanax. Otherwise I'm keeping you here until you heal completely".

She sighed. She hated that pill; she hated the idea of that pill, the way it made her feel and mostly the fact that it meant she wasn't her old self since she came back from Iran. "I know you hate this" Henry began as the doctor left the room. "But try to look on the bright side – you get to go home. And maybe after you've met with Dr. Sherman… You will go see her, right?"

"As if I have a choice" she answered bitterly.

"You don't have to go. I just think you should. You need to talk to someone – someone who can help. She probably has some tools to help you through this. I also think you need to talk to someone who will listen. Of course, you can always talk to me, but I have a feeling you don't feel very comfortable doing that, so maybe Isabelle?"

"Henry… I don't want to talk about it. Not with you, not with anyone. I… I don't want to put into words what he did to me. It's bad enough I have the memories in my head, I don't want to make them more vivid".

"Babe, you don't have to put into words what happened. Not if you don't want to. But you have to talk about what you're feeling now. You have to find a way. It's… It'll eat you up if you don't".

"Henry… I don't want to… I don't. Please don't make me" she said, her voice breaking, tears sliding down her face.

It was the most he had seen her cry and break since she woke up from her surgery. He wondered how she managed being so strong. Then again, Elizabeth was always strong; always realistic, even when everything was surreal. He carelessly reached to wipe her tears, and she froze as his hand touched her face. He backed away quickly, realizing what he had done. She glanced at him, feeling him drifting, pulling away from her. She covered her face with her hands and began to sob. "Please don't make me, please don't make me" she mumbled, repeating it over and over again.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N** : Told you I had another one coming. I had to get this on paper before tomorrow. Another crazy week at work begins. Also, I had to get this down because I am hoping for some good fluff sexy scenes in tomorrow's episode and I honestly can't write all this angst and then move to other stuff such as smut! Thank you thank you thank you for all your great comments! Hope I did well with this chapter as well!

On a more personal note – sending my love and prayers to the people in Paris and France. May one day we choose love instead of hate; peace instead of war.

* * *

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 17_ _th_ _, 2015, 09:30_

"Elizabeth, Hi. I'm Dr. Mariah Tallay. I understand you have some bleeding, I'm going to perform a quick check. Tell me if something hurts, or if you need me to stop, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded. She was lying on her back, each of her legs resting on the stirrups on each side of the bed. She must have been to a gynecologist more times than she could remember. She knew the drill, she no longer felt embarrassed. After giving birth 3 times in this position, she was well accustomed. And yet she had to fight hard not to close her legs. And when she felt the doctor's hands on her, she bit her lower lip hard, leaving a mark. Her nails digging in the skin of her hand, drawing blood. Henry could almost feel her nails in his skin, although he wasn't even holding her hand. He spread her hands apart, taking them in his, holding her tight. The doctor probably explained every step of what she was doing, but Elizabeth didn't hear anything. She tried to concentrate on breathing. When the doctor inserted a finger inside her she jumped, letting out a cry. Dr. Tallay asked her if she should stop. Elizabeth shook her head, taking another deep breath. She exhaled when she heard Dr. Tallay saying she finished; that Elizabeth could take her legs off the stirrups.

"Elizabeth you have some bleeding due to some bruises and cuts. It's not abnormal but I want you to monitor it – if you feel great pain or burn, please let me know. I recommend using pads for the next month or two, tampons will only increase the abrasion. Also, please be aware that the next time you try to have sex" she said, now looking at Henry as well, "it will be painful, much like your first time or your first time after you gave birth. You should use lubricate and do it slowly. If the pain is too much, stop, and go see your doctor".

 _Virginia Hospital Center, March 15_ _th_ _, 1999, 04:32_

Elizabeth opened her eyes to see Henry sitting on a chair next to her bed, nursing a baby covered with pink blanket. They didn't know they were having another girl. They decided, the minute she found out she was pregnant, they didn't want to know. They wanted it to be a surprise. "Alison" she whispered and he looked at her and smiled. They have been thinking of baby names for both genders, and have decided on Alison a few months back. Elizabeth's late mother was Alice, and while they both agreed the name was too "old" they wanted to find something similar in the memory of Alice Adams.

Henry got up from the chair, and gently placed the baby on Elizabeth's chest. "Meet your mama sweetie" he whispered as he gently kissed Alison's forehead. Elizabeth smiled through the tears in her eyes, kissing Alison's tiny fingers. "It's so nice to finally see you, beautiful" she whispered to the baby. Alison fell asleep on Elizabeth chest in matters of seconds, and Henry smiled at that sight. He leaned forward and kissed Elizabeth. "Beautiful just like her mother" he breathed on her lips.

 _Bahrain Specialist Hospital, December 17_ _th_ _, 2015, 11:00_

"I got you some coffee" Henry said as he walked into the room.

"Thanks" she said, smiling and taking the cup from his hand.

"I… I need to go to the bathroom".

"Yeah, sure" he said, placing his cup on the night stand near her bed. He went to get a wheel chair, placing it near her bed. She slowly sat, moving her legs so they almost touched the floor. He remained standing in front of her, not daring to move closer. "I, I'm going to need to hold you. What do you want me to do?" He asked, uncertain.

"What you always do" she answered, pulling his hand so he would sit next to her.

"Are you sure? I'm… That means…"

"Yes. Place your hand on my waist. If I want to get out of here, I need to get used to your hands on me" she answered quietly.

He nodded and his hand traced the small of her back until it settled on her waist. His touch was light; he wasn't really holding her. He wanted to give her the option to move if it was too much. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Not so long ago she used to get butterflies in her stomach whenever he touched her, whenever he was so close to her. Now it made her shiver, now it made her want to move, to push him, to cry. She placed her hand on his, pressing his hand against her body. He let out a breath – it was the most he had touched her since she left for Kiev. After days of thinking he might not be able to touch her ever again, he had to fight against the urge to pulled her closer and kiss her. "I'm okay" she whispered. She wasn't, but she was determined to be.

He slowly stood and she followed, leaning against his chest as his hand tightened around her waist. He gently placed her on the wheel chair and then helped her to the bathroom. "Thank you" she said and he smiled. "I want to take a shower. And I don't want a nurse".

"Baby, we've been through this, you can't do it alone".

"I know. I was wondering if maybe you could help?"

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"I can't stand the nurse's touch either, so I might as well let you do it. I'm going home with you, no one else".

"Yeah, okay, sure".

She smiled as he helped her to the chair in the shower. He turned around as she removed her gown and she chuckled. He was so gentle and respecting, and it was such a contrast to how Vladimir treated her. Henry knew every inch of her body, and yet he still felt the need to give her some sort of privacy. "Henry" she whispered, reaching for his hand. He turned around, his eyes meeting hers. He didn't look at her body, just staring into her eyes, never leaving her gaze. He took his shoes off and stepped into the shower. He shampooed her hair, smelling the familiar scent. He used a sponge to soap her body, trying hard not to touch her with his own fingers. He was gentle, as though getting to know her all over again. He was moving slow, as if they haven't been married for so long, as if they haven't shared a bath together so many times before. Tears slid down her face. It was painful – the way he touched her, the way it made her feel. She missed being with him the way she was _before_. She missed how his touch felt, how she loved it when they took a shower together. It was painful, and unbearable, and the thought it might never be the same again scared her to death. He washed the soap and her shampoo, washing her tears as well. The water were warm against her skin, unlike the air outside, unlike the way his touch felt. He placed a towel on her, gently rubbing her skin. She moved his hands, it was too much. He nodded and stepped out of the shower, giving her the space she needed.

"I'll get you a clean gown" he said.

"No… You said you packed some things from home?"

He smiled and nodded. Heading back to the room he took out her favorite sweatshirt, the one that held the letter she left for him. He took out her favorite pajama pants, her sports bra and some clean socks and underwear. He brought everything she used to wear when she finally made it to bed at the end of the day. He loved watching her, this routine that hasn't changed since they met. He knew it by heart, he lived it every single day. He prayed to see her do it again when she went missing; he acknowledged how uncomfortable it must make her feel now.

"Your favorites" he said, handing her the clothes.

She pulled the sweatshirt down her head, breathing in the scent of _home_. He helped her with her underwear and her pants and then helped her back to the bed, taking the chair next to her. "This one is your favorite too" she smiled.

"Yes" he chuckled. "I didn't know you knew that".

"Remember that time I went to London to visit Isabelle and help her with some investigation she was running?"

"Yeah, you have been gone for 3 days but I had the flu".

"That's right. I was supposed to come home but my flight was delayed due to the weather and I told you that you should go to sleep".

"Yeah, you promised you'll be home in no time to take care of me".

She smiled; she did promise him that. "But you refused, you said you wanted to wait, you said that you…"

"Missed you too much" he said, finishing her sentence.

"I came home to find you burning with fever. You were sleeping, holding that sweatshirt like you hold me".

He closed his eyes and smiled at the picture of her wrapped in his arms in their bed. "I woke up the next morning to find you in my arms instead" he said and she nodded. "And if I recall correctly you were burning with fever too".

She giggled. "Yeah, I was sick even before I left. You kept kissing me, begging me not to go that I ended up with the same flu. But I didn't tell you, I didn't want to worry you".

They looked at each other and smiled. They never could keep their hands off of each other, not even when one of them was sick. Her eyes clouded at the realization that he was now forced to keep his hands off of her, that she forced him. "I'm sorry about the letter" she murmured. "I really didn't think that I would come back… I wanted you to… I'm sorry".

"I didn't think you'd come back either" he admitted.

The words sunk in slowly, as she realized what she had done to him. Not intentionally, but still. After Iran, she swore she would never make him go through this again. But then again, she also swore she would never keep secrets from him. "I had to go… Please tell me you understand that I… I had no choice".

"I know. But it only makes it worse… You were dealing with all of this, and I knew nothing. And then you left, and you didn't even get to say goodbye to me. I didn't get to say goodbye to you".

"We don't say goodbye to each other. We don't know how".

He smiled through his tears. She was right, they didn't know how to say goodbye to each other. It literally pained them to be apart, making goodbye impossible.

 _Air Force One, December 18_ _th_ _, 2015, 18:59_

"Are you sure she's okay to fly?" Henry asked the nurse that was joining them. Ameer refused to let them get on the plane without a medical staff and arranged for his own staff to fly home with her. As much as Henry wanted to bring Elizabeth home, he didn't want to do anything that would risk her life, that would make her situation even worse than it already was. But Elizabeth insisted on going home, she was determined. And when Dr. Salah finished his check, she pushed him into signing the release forms. Reluctantly he released her, after making sure she's going home with 24/7 medical care. He figured that after all she has been through, being at home is the only thing that could make her feel better.

"Yes. We've got this under control, don't worry. I gave her something for the pain and a sleeping pill, she should fall asleep soon. She'll probably sleep through the entire flight".

Henry nodded and took the chair next to her stretcher. The plane was crowded with her detail and the medical staff and equipment, but for some reason the noise and hustle calmed both of them down. He took her hand in his and smiled. "Ready to go home?"

"Yes" she answered softly, smiling too.

"Close your eyes now, my love. When you wake up, we'll be home".


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N** : I'm a little uncertain about the ratings for this fic. I marked it T again because there are no specific descriptions here, but again – this is a sexual assault fic and it might be hard to read, so heads up! I struggled with this chapter, not sure why. I thought I had it all written down in my head but found myself in search of words. I'm sorry for updating so late, I planned on posting sooner, but this week really killed me. I will be fast-forwarding the timing of this fic beginning next chapter, I think. Okay, enough talking. Hope you'll enjoy this! As always – tell me what you think!

* * *

 _Air Force One, December 19_ _th_ _, 2015, 06:45_

"Henry" she called. She awoke in a startle, scanning the area around her.

"What is it babe?" he asked, standing and meeting her eyes.

"Who is flying the plane? If you're here, who is flying the plane?" she asked, panic in her voice.

"Sweetie, we're on Air Force One. Colonel Mathews is flying the plane".

"Henry he doesn't know. You have to tell him. He doesn't know". Her voice was trembling, breaking. Her breath was heaving.

"Tell him what? Baby, what's wrong?"

"Someone is trying to take down the plane. We're off track Henry. Please. Go tell him".

Henry sighed. He suddenly realized he was getting a glimpse of the minutes she realized someone has taken over her plane. He gave her his iPad, showing the course of the plane. "We're on track. We already got the person who took over your plane. You're safe now. You are".

Her eyes welled with tears as she realized she wasn't making sense. "I'm sorry" she whispered.

"No, it's okay. Everything is going to be okay. Go back to sleep baby. We'll be home soon".

She nodded, closing her eyes again. Taking his chair next to her again, he let out a breath. He wondered how many more of these re-occurring memories were going to haunt her. How many of them could he quiet down. If only he could take these memories away from her. He would've given anything to do it.

 _The ride home from Andrews Field, December 19_ _th_ _, 2015, 10:30_

"Babe?"

"Yeah?"

"The kids… They're going to hug you when we get home. Do you want me to talk to them?" he asked.

"Henry… They're my babies" she said, her voice breaking. "It's bad enough… It's bad enough I'm coming home in an ambulance, that you're going to wheel me into the house… I… They're my babies".

"Okay. Okay" he nodded. He understood that no matter how uncomfortable their hugs might make her feel, she wasn't going to let Vladimir take this away from her. Not when he had already taken so much.

"Are you going to tell them?" he asked.

"I don't want to" she said, wiping a tear that slid down her face.

"You don't have to. It's okay" he said, smiling. "Do you want to tell me why?"

"They don't need to know this about their mother. It's too much".

He nodded. He wasn't sure himself if they should know or not. He knew they'd want to know. He knew they'd ask questions. But he also knew how much it has taken from him – knowing. He could only imagine what it would do to their children.

"You think I should tell them" she whispered.

"No, I honestly don't know myself. I think you should do what feels right for you. And if you feel like it's too much, then don't tell them. I will manage their questions".

"Henry… I love you… So so much".

With watery eyes he smiled at her, squeezing her hand. She hasn't said that since she left for Kiev. It's not that he thought she stopped loving him, but it was so good to hear her say that. It felt like them for just a glimpse of a moment. It felt like nothing could tear them apart.

 _McCord Residence, December 19_ _th_ _, 2015, 11:30_

She was finally home.

She was finally home with her family. Back at the hospital Henry realized the house was not suitable for her. He used the little time he spent away from her bedside to arrange everything so she'll be as comfortable as possible when she returned home. With the help of Isabelle and his kids, their TV room was turned into a bedroom, making sure everything felt familiar; making sure she would feel at home. That room didn't have a door, but Henry thought it might be for the best. She needed to feel like she can get out if she needed to. He arranged for a stairs lift that would carry her to their bathroom, and made sure to have a second wheelchair upstairs. Alison placed Elizabeth's nightstand next to her new bed, decorating it with pictures of them as a family. She placed her perfume and hand cream, adding a scented candle, just to make it feel more like _home_.

He rolled her into her new room and she turned her head to him, smiling. "Welcome home babe" he said, smiling too.

Their kids ran into down the stairs and into the room, running into her embrace, wrapping their arms around her. She closed her eyes, swallowing her tears. She reminded herself they were her children, her babies. She breathed Alison's hair, that familiar scent of her shampoo; she smiled as Jason kissed her cheek; she relaxed when Stevie wrapped her arms around her neck, gentle yet loving. Stevie kissed her hair, whispering in her ear "it's good to have you back".

 _McCord Residence, December 19_ _th_ _, 2015, 23:04_

She was lying in this new bed, in this new room. She was alone. She forced Henry to sleep in their own bedroom, refusing to let him sleep on the floor next to her. He begged and pleaded but she said that if she needed anything – she would call him. She fell asleep the minute she entered the bed, only to wake up with a nightmare. It wasn't anything in particular – she dreamt of running and running with no destination. She felt as if someone was chasing her, although she was all alone. Her legs were getting tired and she eventually fell to the ground. She didn't realize she was sobbing. Her pillow wet from her tears.

"Mom" Stevie whispered, standing next to her.

Elizabeth turned slowly, meeting her daughter's eyes. She wiped her tears, offering a smile she knew would never convince Stevie. "Hey sweetie".

Stevie moved to sit on the bed next to her mom, a worried look on her face. "Mom, what's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"No, no. I'm okay".

"Why are you crying then?"

Elizabeth sighed, wiping another tear. "I don't want to talk about it" she said. She hoped Stevie would understand. She hoped she didn't hurt her feelings.

Stevie nodded. "Is it okay if I sit here with you for a while?" she asked, taking Elizabeth's hand in hers.

"That would be great".

They sat together in silence. Elizabeth was trying to make her tears stop. She was mad that she let Stevie see her like this; that she was unable to control her emotions. "Does it have something to do with the fact that Dad's sleeping upstairs?" Stevie finally asked. She didn't want to pressure her mother. But she felt like maybe, if she asked all the right questions, she could get her to open up and maybe, just maybe, she could make her feel better.

Elizabeth chuckled. "What did he say to you?"

"He didn't have to say anything. He had that defeated look on his face, like he had lost an argument he knew he didn't stand a chance in" Stevie answered, smiling.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes" she answered.

"And I guess it also has something to do with how cautious he is around you?"

"It's that notable, huh?"

"Mom. You two can't keep your hands off of each other. I swear sometimes it's just gross. He hasn't touched you once since you got home. Not to mention kissing you".

Elizabeth sighed. She knew this could happen, that her children will notice how distant she was from Henry. They weren't stupid; and Stevie was right – they grew up to have their parents constantly touching each other, always showing affection for each other. "Go ahead, ask" Elizabeth said.

"No. You said you don't want to talk about it. I'm not going to force you".

"The answer is yes" Elizabeth said, her voice so quiet Stevie barely heard her.

Stevie's eyes darkened, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. She didn't want to be right. She didn't want this crazy thought in her head to be the truth. She hoped her mom would explain that they had some sort of stupid fight about the risks her mom took, or about how she left, _knowing_. But deep down, she knew. Her parents fought, it's not like they always agreed on everything. But they had a well-known rule – they never, ever, spent the night apart. No matter how mad they were at each other. Stevie remembered when once, when she was 12, she heard her mom talking to Isabelle and Juliet, telling them about a fight she had the night before with Henry. Juliet asked her how was she able to spend the night next to him after such a fight and Elizabeth just smiled and said "we may not agree on many things, but we agree on one thing – we are in this to stay; and fighting doesn't mean we no longer love each other". Even at 12, Stevie realized just how special her parents' marriage was. Even at 12 Stevie realized this is the kind of marriage she would want to have someday.

"I didn't want you to know" Elizabeth said, meeting Stevie's eyes, resting her other hand on top of hers.

"Why?"

"Because I can see how much it's taken from your father. And I didn't want you to feel this way. I didn't want you to have to even think about it; that something like that could happen to me".

"Mom, 1 in 4 – those are the statistics. You know them. You told me about them. When I went to Lovell you sat down and talked to me. You told me I'm probably going to hear about how I should look out for myself, how I should lock my room, not drink at parties, stuff like that. And then you said that 1 in 4 women experience some sort of sexual assault in their life and that while all the "don't do's" might be helpful, sexual assault can happen anywhere, at any time and to anyone. And most times it someone you know. You told me I should be careful, but not afraid, and that whatever I do – it's never an invite for forced sex. It's not a "yes" unless I say yes".

Elizabeth sighed. "I was secretly believing that since I'm happily married to a man that would never do something like that, and since I was well trained and lately always surrounded by an army of bodyguards, that this will not happen to me. Besides, if I can't protect myself, how will I ever be able to protect you?"

"Alison and I aren't babies anymore. I know you want to protect us, but you can't. It's not your fault there are monsters in this world".

"No, but I'll be damned if I don't do everything I can to make sure they never lay a finger on you".

Stevie smiled. She kissed her mom's cheek, wiping her tears. "You're the coolest mom in the world, just so you know".

 _McCord Residence, December 20_ _th_ _, 2015, 05:37_

She awoke to the morning light. Slowly turning in her bed, she found Henry lying on scattered pillows on the floor. She sighed, smiling. "Henry" she whispered and he opened his eyes. "Come to bed" she said, moving to make room for him.

He stood, smiling. "No. It's okay. I just couldn't sleep without you near me. I don't mind sleeping on the floor".

"I mind. We never sleep apart".

"Elizabeth… There are special circumstances. It's okay".

"No" she said, shaking her head. "No special circumstances. We can share a bed. We should share a bed".

"Baby… Won't it be too much?" he asked.

"It might. But I'll get over it. Just… Just lie next to me. And hold my hand".

He nodded, climbing to the bed. He lied on his side, facing her. He took her hands in his, resting them on the matters between them. He smiled. Smiling back, she closed her eyes, letting herself drift back to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N** : Just wanted to say – I'm having my days with Stevie – sometimes I can't stand her and sometimes I think she's brilliant. I was thinking of going with Alison for the mother-daughter scene, but those last few episodes with Stevie – she seems more mature. And she felt like a right choice, maybe because of everything they've been through.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N** : Super fun that I had some free time today! Might even get to write another chapter or a new piece tomorrow, who knows! Regarding the Christmas scene in this chapter – I never had Christmas, so I honestly don't know how it all works, and everything I wrote is knowledge from shows/movies. So forgive me if this is not really how it's going in real life! First scene takes place after the couch scene in the last episode. That scene served my own interests so well! Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews! I can't wait to read what you think about this one!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, November 10_ _th_ _, 2015, 20:36_

"Why so quiet?" he asked. They were cuddling on the couch, watching meaningless commercials, eating popcorn. She hasn't said a word since he complimented her skin, since he managed to move around them talking.

"Just thinking of how you mastered the art of avoiding me" she answered, not daring to meet his eyes.

He backed away, pulling his arm from under her, sitting straight. He reached for the remote and turned the TV off. "Elizabeth!" he said with a high voice, anger and hurt quickly building inside of him.

Setting the popcorn bowl on the coffee table, she started to get up. She wasn't in the mood to fight, and she figured she might as well put an end to it right now, before either of them says something they might end up regretting.

"No!" He said, resting his hands firmly on her hips, not allowing her to move any further. "You're not going to say something like this and then leave. Elizabeth this is not what we do".

"Well, apparently it is now" she answered bitterly.

"Do you think I didn't mean what I said before? Is that what you're saying? That I only said it to get out of talking to you?"

"No. I know you meant it, I am not questioning your love or your loyalty. But I do think that you said it right now because you knew it would make me drop the subject. And it's not the first time Henry".

He listened carefully, feeling as if someone stabbed him in the heart. He wasn't intentionally doing this. Or was he? He didn't know what to say. He began thinking of the past few months, looking at all the times she tried to get him to talk to her. He was too busy with his thoughts, he didn't realize he tightened his grip of her hips, that his nails dug into her skin.

"Henry. You're hurting me" she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Her words made him snap out of his thoughts, making him jump as he pulled his hands from her. She turned her head, not wanting to look at him, wiping her tears away. He was only now beginning to understand that he has been hurting her for a while now.

She got up and went upstairs. After taking a shower, she entered their bed and turned the lights off. She wanted this day to end. She wanted to close her eyes and fall asleep, hoping tomorrow will be better. She could deal with Sterling. She could deal with Russell. She could even deal with Russia. What she couldn't deal with was the fear of losing Henry, the fear of losing what they had. She was already seeing and feeling the effects of them not being able to talk and she knew if things would continue this way, they will drift apart and it will cause damage she wasn't sure they'll ever be able to repair.

She had fallen asleep crying. Henry was still downstairs, trying to figure out when did he stop noticing how hurt she was, when did he stop following the unwritten rules they set for their relationship. He wondered when was it that he changed into this person he no longer knew. He turned the lights off and climbed up the stairs, wishing he'd know what to say to her when he entered their bedroom. Closing their bedroom door, he watched her sleeping, her chest heaving. He smiled. For a second she didn't seem like she was hurting. For a second she was just his beautiful wife, happy, sleeping. After showering and changing into his boxers and t-shirt, he carefully got into bed. He lied on his back, watching her. Her back was turned to him, her legs pulled up to her chest. He rarely saw her sleeping like this. Usually she had fallen asleep this way when they had a fight, and he almost always tried to make sure they won't go to sleep angry. He turned to his side, sneaking his hand around her waist, pulling her to him. She pulled his hand more tightly around her, resting her hand on his, settling in his embrace. He rested his face on hers, moving his leg to rest on top of hers.

"I'm sorry" he whispered.

Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was awake. She didn't respond; he just felt her tears on his cheek.

 _McCord Residence, December 25_ _th_ _, 2015, 10:00_

The house was quiet. It was snowing outside. Henry brought another blanket in the middle of the night, feeling her frozen feet next to his legs. She smiled when she woke up to find herself covered with another blanket, pulling it on top of her, snuggling. She moved closer to him, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. He smiled, slowly opening his eyes.

"Merry Christmas" she said.

He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing it. "Merry Christmas".

"Morning!" the kids called as they walked into the room. Still in their pajamas, they all moved to sit on the floor, next to their tree. The house was decorated with Christmas lights and Henry made sure to bring a tree. The night before he sat with Elizabeth in bed as they wrapped the gifts he bought. It was a tradition. And in spite of her pain, she refused to let him do it alone. It almost felt like nothing ever changed. Watching their children's excitement, even though they were all older now, she realized some things will never change, no matter what will happen.

"Merry Christmas everyone" they both said, smiling.

They opened the gifts. Henry got Jason the new video game he has been asking for; he got Alison a sketch board and some professional pencils; he got Stevie a blank notebook for her novel. They bought their parents a voucher for a meal in their favorite restaurant, knowing they needed nothing more than to spend time together. They thanked their parents before moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, leaving them alone in bed.

"So… Are you ready for you gift?" he asked.

She nodded, grinning. She loved Christmas. Aside from the fact she got to spend, usually, an uninterrupted time with her family, she just loved every gift Henry ever got her, and she couldn't wait to see what he managed to think of this year.

He got up, returning with a cookie jar that held 356 fortune cookies. Each note inside of them was another reason why he loved her. "You get one cookie a day, until next Christmas" he said, handing her the jar so she can pick a cookie.

"Because you're kind" she read out loud. She smiled, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Henry, this is perfect, I love it. Thank you so much".

He smiled, squeezing her hand. "I love you".

"I love you too" she smiled. "I… I also have something for you. It's upstairs in our bedroom. There's a small box in my closet".

He nodded, going upstairs to their bedroom and retrieving the box. "Open it" she said.

Inside he found a batch of 12 colored sticky notes with the writing "date me tonight". "You get to pick one day a month – put the sticky note in my calendar so I know we have a date for that night. The color you pick for the note matches one of the planned date cards I prepared. You don't know what you're choosing, and you will only find out once we start the date, so no questions are allowed".

"So you gave me 12 planned date nights? Just the two of us? Whenever I want?" he grinned.

"Yep. You're in charge for the rest of the month, but for one night, you're at the mercy of my date planning. Don't worry, no cooking is involved. Not mine anyway".

"Babe, I couldn't have asked for a better gift" he said, squeezing her hand again. "Thank you".

Later that day they all sat together, drinking eggnog and singing Christmas songs while Henry played the guitar. He caught her glimpse every once in a while, noticing the smile on her face. It was the most happy she has been since everything happened.

"Today way perfect" she whispered when they went to sleep.

Lying in bed with her, holding her hand, he couldn't agree more. "You are perfect" he said.

 _McCord Residence, December 29_ _th_ _, 2015, 12:04_

"Hi!" Isabelle called, walking into the house.

Leaning closer, Elizabeth greeted Isabelle with a hug. After almost two weeks of moving around the house in a wheelchair, she decided, in spite of everyone's protest, to start walking on her own. It was painful, but she was determined to get back to her feet, get back to her work, get back to her life.

"How are you Bess?" Isabelle asked as she sat on the couch in the living room.

"Well, I'm walking. It's more than I could do yesterday" she smiled.

"Okay, and how are you really?"

"Did Henry send you?" she chuckled.

"Bess, he didn't have to. I'm your best friend, remember?"

Elizabeth sighed. She still didn't want to talk. Not to Isabelle, not to Henry, not to Dr. Sherman. It was bad enough she had to live it, bad enough her memories haunted her every minute of every day.

"Okay listen. I read the report. Including your answers. I know everything. And I'm not Henry, and I can manage. So tell me, please. I want to be here for you".

"Isabelle, I don't even know where to begin. I'm so mad at myself for ending up at this situation, for not fighting harder. I feel like I could've done more, I should've done more to free myself from him. And then… Then there's this constant pain – everywhere. Most of my injuries healed by now, but I still feel his hands gripping me tightly; I can still feel the burn of him pushing into me; I still sometimes gasp for air, feeling his hands strangling me. I keep wanting to move from under him, but I can't move, like I'm frozen. And that's how I felt when I was there too. I mean, at first I tried to fight. I kicked and I screamed. But the minute my clothes were off, I just froze. I was unable to move, I was unable to cry. I feel like… I feel like I let him take hold of my body, that I didn't stop him. I feel like I allowed this to happen; and I didn't resist hard enough".

"Bess… you did everything you could. And your reactions are completely normal. No one expected you to fight harder. Freezing is the most common reaction in situations like this, you know that. And you fought, I saw the pictures they took of his body. Don't blame yourself, please. You didn't do anything to justify that. And he knew he was doing it against your will, but it didn't stop him".

"And then there's Henry… I miss him so much, and I can see in his eyes how much he misses me. But I can't… I just can't let him touch me, kiss me. I… It's too much. And I don't want it to be. He's the love of my life Isabelle. I want nothing more than to be able to be with him. I want nothing more than to be able to let him kiss me, hold me. I need him, and I can't live with the thought that his touch, the touch I used to love so much, now reminds me of the most horrible time of my life. And I'm so afraid this is never going to change. I'm so afraid I'll never be able to let him near me, not to mention having sex again. And boy, how I loved our sex life".

"Sweetie… Baby steps, okay? Don't push yourself. You'll get there, eventually. You will. It's a hard work, and you have to go see a therapist, but you will get there. Just… just try to take it one day at a time, and don't feel like someone's after you, or that you have to reach a certain goal. Don't think about what might be in the future, because you don't know".

"Isabelle, what if we never kiss again?" she began sobbing quietly, covering her face with her hands. Isabelle moved to sit closer to her and pulled her into her embrace, hugging her.

"It's going to be okay" Isabelle said, trying to soothe Elizabeth. "It's going to be okay. You're not alone".

 _McCord Residence, December 30_ _th_ _, 2015, 01:12_

He walked into the house, slowly closing the front door. He knew she'd be asleep by now and he was trying his best not to wake her. Much to his surprise, he found her sitting in bed, wide awake.

"It's so late, what are you doing up?" he asked.

"I was worried about you. I called like 5 times, you never picked up".

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, only then realizing his battery died. "Oh damn, babe, I'm sorry I didn't notice my phone died! Are you okay?"

"Where were you?"

"At work… I…" he sighed. He thought about their time before she went to Kiev, about how hurt she was that he wasn't willing to talk to her. He thought about how their secrets made her get on that plane without him knowing. How these secrets might have broken them apart for good. How he almost lost her just because they didn't talk. He was reminded of the night she accused him for avoiding her, of her worry that it can't be healthy for them. It wasn't, he knew that now. He wished he knew it back then too. "My guy is missing, and his sister just died from cancer, and I'm worried he's going to try and do something radical. I've been working all afternoon trying to find him".

"Something like what?" she asked.

"Like assassinating Ostrov".

Her eyes grew wide. "Henry…"

"Can't say I wouldn't be happy about it" he admitted out loud.

"No, Henry… That's, it's bad for us".

"Babe, you're thinking politics and diplomacy. And for most part of the day, so was I. But coming home to you, and being reminded, not that I was ever able to forget, what happened to you, I want everyone to pay. I did my best to find him, and I'm not giving up. But right now, I'm tired of being the country's servant. Right now I just want to be your husband".

She nodded, tears sliding down her face. "Come here" she said, pulling his hand, making him sit next to her. She rested her head against his shoulder and he closed his eyes, reminding himself he can't hold her. But then she took his arm and pulled it around her waist and he tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer to him. He felt her body tense, but she didn't move. Her tears soaked through his shirt and she sobbed quietly. His own tears slid down his face and he wiped them. It was unbearable for her, but she wanted more than anything to comfort him. And it killed him to realize just how much she was willing to do for him.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N** : First I have to get something straight since I realized I was unclear – her plane crashed, but there was no one abroad, so no one really got killed (yet. I'm just kidding!). This chapter was halfway through before I came down with a flu, so I only now had the chance to finish it. Problem is, I want to write so many other things right now after the last episode! But I got this one done first. Now going to work on other things! Thanks for commenting, and as always – would love to know what you think of this.

* * *

 _McCord Residence, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 07:10_

She rolled in her bed, reaching for Henry's hand. Opening her eyes she realized she was alone. It was the third morning in a row that she woke up to an empty bed, and the second night in a row she went to sleep alone. Not sleeping in his embrace, she didn't even know when he came home. She sighed and got out of bed to start her daily routine. Slowly, she was settling back into her life. She moved back to their bedroom and it seemed like everything was returning to normal. Everything aside from the feelings she couldn't seem to explain; aside from the intolerance she had for someone's touch, for Henry's.

She showered and dressed in one of her pencil skirts, wearing a silk dark blue blouse. She put on her high heels and some make up, needing to cover marks that no longer showed on her body.

"Sweetie? Why are you dressed like this?" Henry asked as she entered their kitchen.

"Going back to work" she said, retrieving a cup of coffee.

The talking suddenly stopped, the kids and Henry staring at her. She didn't say a word before; she refused to be talked out of it. She needed the distraction, she couldn't sit around the house anymore and drown in her thoughts. She had to get busy and she was determined to get her life back on track.

"Babe, it's too soon" he said.

"It's not like anything will change if I sit around the house all day, Henry. I feel fine, so I'm going back". Not wanting to give them a chance to start an argument, she took her thermos and her purse. At the door she yelled goodbye to everyone, and left.

Henry sighed, catching Stevie's glance. Being the only ones to know, they both shared a worried look. They couldn't argue. There was nothing that could make what happened to her go away. But still.

Alison looked at them, catching their glance at each other. It was adding up to the subtle changes in her parents' behavior, to what her mother just said, to the way she said it. Trying to figure it all out, she grabbed Stevie's hand the minute Henry and Jason left.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.

"Alison..."

"Stevie, I'm not a child anymore, don't try to fool me. I see how dad moves around mom; I saw how you looked at each other just now. I was here when she just left. Are they getting a divorce? Is that why dad's home so late every night recently? Is he mad at her for leaving?"

"No! Of course not! Listen, it's not that I think you shouldn't know. I'm not trying to hide this from you and neither is dad. But it's something personal and mom is the one that should tell you. And right now, she doesn't want to talk about it and I can't force her. And neither can you. I'm sorry".

"Why did she tell you? Why do you deserve to know and not all of us?"

"She didn't tell me. I figured it out and she just confirmed it. It has nothing to do with you Ali. Please respect that".

 _State Department, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 09:02_

"Madan Secretary" Nadine called, walking into her office. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't due for at least another week!"

"Yeah, couldn't stay at home anymore. How is everyone around here doing?"

"One day at a time, you know?"

Elizabeth nodded. She knew; probably more than anyone. She was relieved to know that they arrived back to Kiev, that Vladimir found no interest in them and let them go. She was so grateful that she knew Arabic; it provided her the peace of mind that at least her staff was okay.

The office filled with people as the morning went along, each asking her how she was, no one knowing the truth. She was grateful Dalton kept it a secret, she wasn't sure she could handle them knowing.

"Bess" Conrad said, walking into her office, interrupting her thoughts.

"Conrad! What are you doing here?" she exclaimed. The President never visited the state department. Elizabeth was always summoned to the White House.

"Henry called to tell me you're here" he said, sitting in the chair in front of her desk. "He's worried about you" he said when she rolled her eyes.

"I know. That's the problem" she said, offering a smile. "Any news about Sterling?"

"We're still searching Bess. I'm not going to rest until we lay our hands on that son of a bitch. He'll pay for what he did. One way or the other".

"Thanks Conrad" Elizabeth said, offering a smile.

Conrad was just about to leave when her staff barged into the room. They all had pity in their eyes, sorrow. Daisy and Nadine had tears rolling down their cheeks. They stood in silence, unable to say a word.

"What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, standing up from her chair.

Conrad's phone was buzzing. "It hit the news. Sexual assault is out in the open" he read the text from Russell. He let out a breath, looking at Elizabeth.

She didn't need words. She understood right away. She has been dreading this moment and she knew it could happen. Especially since Sterling was still free. And he was going to do everything he could to destroy them both. She sank back to her chair, the color drained out from her face. She had to remind herself to keep breathing.

"Ma'am" Nadine said, moving closer to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry".

 _McCord Residence, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 16:09_

"Baby" Henry called as he entered the house. He was stuck all day in some underground basement, working with Jane on the information Dimitri provided, trying to find a clue to his next move. His phone had no signal and he only heard the news on his way home. He ran inside, trying to locate her.

"Hey" she called from her office. She was reading the articles that have been written since this morning – 'it's her fault; she probably wanted it; she should've resist harder; that's why we can't let females take lead roles; maybe if she dressed differently this wouldn't have happened; maybe it's all a tale that she made up; she was probably having an affair with him and this is just a cover-up'. The articles went on and on, blaming her, calling her a liar.

"No, don't. Turn it off sweetie. Don't read this shit".

"Henry, part of it is true" she said as she wiped a tear away.

"None of this is true. Even the people who printed it don't think it's true. Come on, close the damn thing. I don't want you reading this".

"It's everywhere" she said, now sobbing.

He took her hand in his and rubbed circles on her skin. "I know. I'm sorry".

 _McCord Residence, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 19:45_

"Mom, can I come in?" Alison asked, peaking into their bedroom.

Elizabeth just came out of the shower, still covered by only a towel. She spent the afternoon reading her book and trying to take her mind off of what happened. She knew it was only a matter of time before one of her kids came to ask questions.

"Yeah" she said, opening the door for Alison.

Some of the bruises on her legs were still showing. A fading reminder of what happened to her. Alison stared at her legs, unable to take her eyes off of the bruises.

"Oh damn, I'm sorry" Elizabeth said, pulling her pants on quickly.

"No mom, don't. It's okay, I'm okay".

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm sorry you had to find out this way Noodle".

"I'm sorry you had to go through this". Alison reached for Elizabeth's hand and Elizabeth pulled her for a hug, letting her tears fall as her daughter held her.

 _McCord Residence, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 20:10_

"Hey buddy" Henry said as he walked into Jason's room.

Jason was sitting in bed, playing a game on his tablet. He gave his father a look and turned back to his game. Henry sat on the bed and gently took the tablet from Jason's hands.

"Hey! I was playing!" Jason frowned.

"I know. But I think we should talk".

"I've got nothing to say dad".

"Jace... You're angry. I get that. I'm angry too".

"Well, you let this happen so you can only blame yourself" Jason fired.

Henry's eyes widened. He had to catch his breath, shocked by his son's words. He was searching for words, feeling mute. He didn't know what to say. Jason was right – he let Elizabeth get on that plane. He was responsible for the rift between them. At the end of the day, it was his fault. He just didn't expect his son to blame him too.

"Let me" Stevie said, resting a hand on her father's shoulder. Nodding, Henry got up and left the room. He was too hurt to respond, too surprised to do anything other than leave.

"Jace, it's not fair…"

"Yeah, well, neither is what happened to mom".

"True, and we all have to live with this pain now because we love her. But think how much he's hurting. You can't blame him for this. You must've noticed it yourself – how he moves around her like he's too afraid he will break her".

"Stevie, he _let_ her go!"

"Jace, she's not 12. He can't stop her from going, come on. Don't be a child. Besides, he didn't know".

"Maybe that's the problem".

"As if mom can ever share things about her work. Jason, she said goodbye to us before leaving to Iran, knowing there was a chance she'll get hurt, but never said a word. This was no different".

Jason sighed. Stevie was right. After all, none of them really knew what their mom was doing. The few things his father knew were not enough to make her stay, to make him think something so horrible could ever happen.

"You should apologize to him. He's a mess even without you blaming him for this. He was only trying to offer you a listening ear".

 _McCord Residence, January 5_ _th_ _, 2016, 23:45_

She was sitting at the windowsill, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her head buried in her arms. She was crying quietly. He stood at the doorway of their bedroom and watched her as she cried, as his own tears took over him too. They have been together for so long, and still – he could never get used to seeing her cry.

He walked over to her and stroked her back. "Babe…" he said when she jumped, when she moved from his touch.

She looked at him, her eyes filled with agony, and began to sob. He stood there, helpless. Every part of his body wanted to hold her, to comfort her. But he kept trying to remind himself that he shouldn't; that she wouldn't want it. It tore him how much his innocent touch could cause her such great pain.

He carefully unwrapped her hands from her knees, pulling her to stand in front of him. "Baby, please… I'm just… I want you to cry in my arms… please" he pleaded.

She remained standing, her hands covering her face, loud sobs filling the room. He was too focused on her that he didn't hear the bedroom door open. All three of their children walked into the room quietly, moving to stand next to them. Jason was the first one to wrap his arms around Elizabeth, Alison and Stevie following. They surrounded her, all three of them, holding her tight. Henry moved to their embrace, hugging his children. Silent tears slid down their faces as Elizabeth sobbed. She has been through the worse, and there was nothing they could do for her, besides be there.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N** : I am so unbelievably sorry for taking so long to update this. Life was crazy, and as the episodes aired, I was suddenly in need to write other things. I started writing this chapter about two weeks ago, writing bits and pieces every time because something always seemed to pull me away from this. I'm so glad I was finally able to finish this. I hope I won't take this long in the next chapters. Hope you'll like this! Comments, please please comments!

* * *

 _State Department, January 6_ _th_ _, 2016, 08:30_

"Good morning Ma'am" Nadine said as she entered Elizabeth's office.

"Hey Nadine" Elizabeth said, offering a smile. She knew after the day before that her staff wouldn't know what to say to her. After she realized it hit the news, she couldn't stay at the office. They were all in her office, staring at her with pity. She couldn't handle it. She grabbed her bag and ran outside. At that moment she was more thankful than ever that she had her detail to drive her around. The amount of reporters standing just outside the building was unbelievable. All of them wanting to get a chance to take her picture – to show that she's weak so they can print something about how she hid this, how she's no longer capable of being Secretary of State. Today was no different, and she figured that if she'd come in early, maybe she would avoid some of them. She didn't. She had to hide behind Matt, as he shielded her until she entered the safety of the building. She at least hoped to have some time alone to make her tears stop. She forgot her chief of staff was an early riser, that she was always first at the office.

Nadine looked at her – Elizabeth's eyes were red, tears forming in the corners. She couldn't recall a time when she saw her boss cry. She always saw her on the verge of crying and wondered how was she able to hold it together. She looked at her with owe, knowing sometimes events of the day can bring you to tears, but Elizabeth was always strong. Except for the time she broke down after Iran. Blake was the one to handle it, she refused to let anyone else see her like this. She felt uncomfortable seeing her like that. It felt as if she was entering some private space that was only reserved for the people closest to her.

"Do you mind if I sit with you, or do you want me to leave?" she asked. She hated leaving Elizabeth like that. Not that she had a way to comfort her, but she knew fare well that sometimes, having someone in the room with you when you feel like the floor beneath you is crumbling, could make everything feel just a little better.

Elizabeth wiped her tears and smiled. "You can sit" she said. Truth was, she didn't feel like being alone. Once Nadine saw that she was crying, she just wanted the company. It seemed to be reoccurring – her fear of being left alone, as if Vladimir could hurt her again. It was a dissonance – she felt like hiding from the world, but it scared her to death.

Taking the seat in front of her, Nadine reached her hand out to Elizabeth, taking her hand in hers. "I know you probably don't feel that way right now, and I guess it's the last thing you want to hear, but I think you should – you're the strongest person I've ever met. And the way you're dealing with this, I don't think I could".

"Nadine, I wouldn't call this dealing. I practically ran in here this morning like a child. Matt had to move with me so no one can take a picture of me. And I can't stop crying, and… I'm not really dealing. I'm just… I'm alive, it's the most I can say".

"You're here, though, aren't you?"

"Well, I was always good at following protocols. That's why I was recruited to the CIA. Besides, I'm sort of hiding here. At home, I have to shut the shudders and sit alone, because the reporters are hovering the house. Here they can't reach me" she smiled.

Nadine nodded, smiling too. "These things have a way of dying down".

"I know. I just don't know what's the next thing that will pop on the news. And I honestly don't know if I can handle it".

"I don't know if it counts for anything, but we are all here to handle it together. You don't have to do it alone".

 _Press Room, State Department, January 6_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:20_

Daisy walked into the press room, the flashes dazzling her. Even after all the time she spent as a press coordinator, she still wasn't used to the cameras and the microphones pointed at her the minute she walked into the room. But this time she didn't come to give any answers. This was a personal address to the reporters. She didn't tell anyone she was planning on doing this; she knew the other staff members would try and talk her out of it. Hell, even she knew it's probably a bad idea. But she refused to be silenced.

"Good afternoon everyone" she said, taking the podium.

"Daisy! Why didn't the Secretary tell us?", "Was she really raped? Or is that some story that was made up to cover the mess of appointing Sterling to the job?", "How is she even in the office? Doesn't she has feelings?!"

The questions went on and on for 5 long minutes before she finally had enough and put a stop to it. "Enough!" she yelled into the microphone. The room went silent and everyone stared at her with surprise. "I did not come here to answer your questions. I am not here making a speech on behalf of the Secretary. I am here because all of you crossed a line these past few days and it's time to put an end to it. Elizabeth McCord is the Secretary of State, but before anything she's a person, a private one. She has children, and a husband. She has been through enough without you throwing these accusations her way. She was kidnapped. We were all kidnapped. The rest of us were lucky enough to be released, not knowing this is how this was all going to end. Truth is, we didn't even know until it hit the news yesterday. And you know why we didn't know? Because it's the most private thing for someone, and you posted it as if it was some high-priority news. Did you stop to think that maybe even her family didn't know about this? Did you stop to think how would it feel if your wife or your daughter went through something so horrible, only to have it posted on every newspaper, on every newscast? All you care about is the ratings, trying to promote yourself on her account. You're posting things, blaming her for this, trying to get pictures of her without her permission. You are not better than he was, putting her through this. Don't you think she suffered enough? The next time you follow her to get her picture, or you throw some dumb question her way, or you print some stupid lie about this – think of how the women you love would feel if someone else had done it to them, how would _you_ feel".

The room stayed silent as Daisy walked out. No one knew how to react to what she said. They all knew she was right, but this is how the news worked, and Daisy ought to know it. She walked by Elizabeth's office on her way to her own, finding the rest of the staff sitting in silence with Elizabeth.

"Daisy" Elizabeth called.

"Madam Secretary" she said, walking into the office. "Look I know you're probably mad, but I had to say it. I… I got to come home unharmed. We all did" she said, looking at the rest of the staff.

"I'm not mad" Elizabeth smiled. "I was going to say thank you" she said, taking Daisy's hand in hers. "I just don't have it in me to stand up to them. With everything that happened, I try to reserve my energy for other things. So thank you".

Daisy nodded, her eyes covering with tears that she wished to blink away. She didn't want to cry; she was the lucky one. She felt like she had no right to cry. But as Elizabeth pulled her for a hug, she could no longer hold back her tears. "It's okay. You've been through a lot" Elizabeth whispered as she hugged her.

Letting out a chuckle, Daisy said "Not as much you have. I wish we were…"

"Don't. Don't finish that sentence. Neither one of you – don't ever think that. The only thing that kept me going was knowing that they let you go. I was the one to put us all on that plane, knowing there's a constant threat against the government. I couldn't handle it if something happened to you. Besides, it's not like you could've saved me. No guilt. I won't allow it". They all nodded, although the guilt has washed over them since they learned the truth. "And, enough with the pity looks. Please. I have enough of these at home. I'm going to be okay, but for now I just need you to act normal around me".

 _Dr. Sherman's office, January 6_ _th_ _, 2016, 19:32_

"Elizabeth. Come in" she said, opening her office door. She wasn't surprised when she received the call from Elizabeth that morning. She heard the news, just like everyone else has. But knowing Elizabeth, she wasn't surprised she waited this long to call. She was a tough one to crack, always looking for ways out of the conversation. Truth was, Dr. Sherman was pretty convinced Elizabeth came in the first time because her husband pushed her to it, and if there was one thing that she knew for sure about Elizabeth – was the deep profound love and respect she had for her husband. Those were enough to get her to do pretty much anything he asked. After meeting Henry once, she couldn't blame Elizabeth for being so madly and deeply in love with him. Henry was charming and impressive. He was smart and caring, and he too would do anything his wife ever asked him, no matter how painful it was. Thinking about why Elizabeth didn't come sooner, she realized her husband had done what he did before – he studied everything he could about how to treat such matter. He didn't ask her to go, he merely suggested, leaving the choice at her hands, allowing her to regain the little control she could over her life. If only more men treated women that way, the world would've been a much safer place to live in, she thought.

"I'm sorry to call on such a short notice" Elizabeth said, sitting on the couch.

Dr. Sherman smiled and sat on the chair in front of Elizabeth. The room was silent. Elizabeth looked to the floor, avoiding Dr. Sherman's eyes, her questions. She didn't want to come. She had to convince herself to get out of the car as it stopped at Dr. Sherman's office. She had nothing to say. It was all out in the open anyway, so what was the point? But she knew she had to. If only for Henry. It's not that he asked her, but after last night, after not being able to let him hold her when she needed him the most – she had to try, she had to talk to someone and get help. She spent the night lying wide awake, staring at him. He drifted to sleep and then woke up to find her looking at him. Then they spent the night just staring at each other, not saying a word. But his look said it all – the pain, the distance between them. The despair, the fear, the loss. She never saw him like that, so helpless and scared. So for him she decided to do her best. She had to get better, if not for herself, at least for him.

"It'll probably sound like a stupid question, but how are you?" Dr. Sherman asked.

Elizabeth chuckled. It was a stupid question. Every news station and newspaper out there wrote about how she was, posting pictures of her trying to hide her crying eyes. "I'm here, I guess that answers your question".

"You didn't want to be here?"

"No. I don't want to talk about this".

"So what made you come?"

Elizabeth sighed, tears forming in her eyes. Her fingers moved on the rings on her finger. "Henry" she whispered.

"Did he ask you to come here?"

"No. He suggested and when I said I didn't want to, he didn't push me. He doesn't know I'm here".

"What made you change your mind then?"

"I need to… I have to let him… He's my husband and I can't…"

"Elizabeth, I didn't hear you say that you _want_ it".

"I don't. That's why he's not touching me, not kissing me. But I want to want it. He's my everything. And it's not that he did anything wrong, it wasn't his fault" she said, tears sliding down her cheeks and she reached to wipe them.

"Okay, but you have to understand that it means you'll have to talk about what happened. We'll have to work on this and it's going to take time". As Elizabeth nodded, she continued. "I want you to tell me what you feel when Henry touches you".

"Pain. Physical, mental, unbearable pain. And it's such a contrast to how gentle and careful he is. He doesn't want to touch me for him, he wants to for me. Because once, before this happened, his touch was the only thing I ever wanted. His touch could comfort me, just like that, with no words. And he's not _him_. He doesn't force anything, and he keeps asking me if it's okay and he makes sure I know I have a choice, that it's up to me. And I just want to go back to the way it was before – before, when he didn't have to ask me if it was okay to greet me with a kiss; or if it was okay to pull me to his embrace when we go to sleep. Because I wanted everything he had to offer, and it felt like the best thing in the world".

"Are you talking to him? I mean, do you tell him how you feel?"

"I told him a little. But I can't seem to explain to him in words why _his_ touch, which is so completely different than Vladimir's touch, keeps bringing up the memory of Vladimir's touch".

"It sounds to me you're trying to find a lot of reason in this. Don't. There is no reason in why this happened. And he knows it too, he's not expecting it to 'make sense', because after sexual assault, nothing really makes sense anymore. You need to talk to him, it is the only way to make this work. We are going to work together on how you communicate your physical relationship. I want you to start by telling him what you just told me. Let him in, into this new world of yours, it's who you are now, and if you want to return to normal, you have to let him be a part of this".

 _McCord Residence, January 6_ _th_ _, 2016, 21:00_

As her car stopped at her driveway she noticed the cars parked outside. As she stepped out, dozens of reporters jumped out of their car, cameras flashed, ready to take her pictures. Matt and Frank jumped out of the car as well, moving to push the reports away as Karl rushed to pull her inside the house. She sighed as the door closed. She could only hope Daisy's speech would make this go away. She should've known better.

"Babe?" Henry called from his desk.

"Hi" she said as she walked into the room.

He offered her his hand and she gladly took it, allowing him to push her so she sat on the desk in front of him. "Rough day, huh?" he asked.

She nodded. "Is there some magic trick to make them go away?"

"I'm sorry" he said, squeezing her hand. "I tried calling you, your phone was off".

"Yeah, I was at Dr. Sherman's".

Suddenly alerted, he sat straight in his chair, listening carefully. The last time they discussed it, she refused to even consider it. She cried and said she doesn't want to talk about what happened and he didn't push her. He thought she should, because he didn't have the tools to help her, he didn't know how. But he also knew that just like with her PTSD, she's not going to talk until she's ready. And he understood her. Going through this once was more than enough, she didn't want to have to talk about it, to get it out in the open with words to describe it. That's why he was surprised to learn that she went, on her own will. He wondered what had changed. "What made you go?"

"You" she answered, her voice low. As he narrowed his eyes she continued "last night – I… I was a mess. And you wanted to help me, and I didn't let you anywhere near me. And then the kids, they came, and you couldn't hold me and I… I want to be able to let you hold me. I want to want it. I need to get better. For you".

"Elizabeth… I want you to get better for _you_. I wanted you to go because you shouldn't deal with this alone".

"I know, but part of it is you. Because if I can't let you it, then I'm all alone anyway".

"I'm going to stay beside you, every step of the way".

"I know. It's why I love you so much. It's why I'll do anything to get _us_ back".

Their fingers entwined, their rings sparkling in the dim light of the room. Her eyes shimmering with tears as he stared deep into them, as he promised her so much without saying a word. He stood, suddenly standing so close to her. He smiled, taking her other hand in his. " _We_ are going to get us back. Together. I love you".


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N** : I know, I know. It took me two weeks to update, I'm sorry. I worked around the clock these past two weeks, I didn't have time to sleep, let alone write. I want to promise I'll do better but my work has a way of surprising me and changing all of my plans. I fast-forwarded this fic a little (in a month, not a year, I accidentally wrote 2015 before, sorry about that). I am planning to wrap this one up soon I suppose. Wanted to say thank you for all 102 comments for this fic. You make me smile, you make my day. Please keep the comments coming! Happy New Year everyone!

* * *

 _Dr. Sherman's office, February 8_ _th_ _, 2016, 18:00_

"You seem relaxed" Dr. Sherman said as Elizabeth settled on the couch.

"Yes. It was a good week".

"What about the nightmares?"

"I woke up with nightmares only three times this week. And only once per night" Elizabeth said.

"That's progress. Last week you mentioned nightmares every night. I'm glad it's subsiding. I also notice you appear less on the news, I'm guessing it also helps?"

"Yes, it's been a quiet week" Elizabeth said, smiling lightly.

"I'm sensing that in spite of all these things, something still bothers you very much".

Elizabeth chuckled. She wondered when she became so obvious, so easy to read.

"Is it Henry?" Dr. Sherman asked when Elizabeth didn't say a word.

"Yes" Elizabeth answered.

"Okay. I've been waiting for things to calm down a little before we start working on this, and I think now is a good time". When Elizabeth nodded she continued "This is a lot of work, and it's going to take time. Sometimes you'll move forward, other times you'll go backwards. It's part of the process, it's part of everything you went through. And it's okay. You've been through a lot, and you have to accept that things will not return to the way they were before. And that's okay too. That being said, you are going to get back to a point where you are able to be around him, to feel comfortable with him. And you are going to have sex again. I know right now it feels like it's never going to happen, and you can't even think about it, but I must say it. I hear too many people saying that a woman who went through a sexual assault will never have sex again, or judge and ask 'how could she'. Sex and sexual assault are two completely different things, and the fact that you went through a sexual assault doesn't mean you stopped living. We love and enjoy sex, when we agree to having it, when the things we do with are partner are mutually consented, when we communicate, when we love. It's okay to want sex again in your life. It's okay to settle back into old habits that make you feel good. You got to survive the attack, it doesn't mean you should live like a survivor. You get to choose what you do, how you do it and when. And whatever you choose is alright".

Elizabeth nodded. Truth be told, it seemed too far away to even think about it right now. She couldn't even let him hug her. But she was determined to get there. "Tell me what I need to do. I need my husband back. And he needs me".

"We're going to work on communicating your intimate relationship with him. This is going to be a lot like getting to know each other again. You do things now that come easily to you because you've been together long enough, but it wasn't like that from day one. You talked to each other, let each other know what makes you feel good, what's okay and in time you learned, and it became part of your life. This is going to be the same. It might feel frustrating sometimes, because you've been together for so long, but eventually you'll get to a point where it comes naturally. So the first thing I want you to do is think of one thing you think you can manage doing with him. It can be anything – whatever feels right for you. I want just one thing, we're going to do this slowly".

"Vladimir never kissed me" Elizabeth said after a few moments of silence.

"Do you think you can handle kissing Henry?"

"I have to try" Elizabeth said, her voice breaking. She was desperate to get something back.

"Okay. So I want you to do this, kiss him. And afterwards tell him how you felt. Tell him how he can kiss you too – when, where. Let him know, talk to him. Remember – in order for this to work, you need to communicate".

 _McCord Residence, February 9_ _th_ _, 2016, 07:02_

Henry was at the bathroom brushing his teeth when he noticed she was standing at the doorway, staring at him.

"Need the bathroom babe? I'm almost done" he said.

"No" she said. She took a few steps forward, moving to stand closer to him. She tossed and turned all night, determined to open their morning with a kiss. She had to at least try. He raised his brow as she stood so close to him, a questioning look on his face. On tiptoes, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his gently, tasting his toothpaste. He closed his eyes, the feeling of her lips against his was almost too much. He thought he was dreaming; he thought he would never get to feel this again, to kiss her again. It felt like their first kiss; back when they were in college. Back then, he was shy and cautious. He didn't want her to run, he didn't want to make her feel like he's pushing her into anything. He was, after all, much older than she was. But when their lips met it felt like they have been kissing for an eternity. After being with her for so long, he was surprised to know it was still possible – to be taken aback by surprise by the familiarity of her kiss, along with the feeling of kissing her for the very first time.

When she backed away, he opened his eyes to look at her. She hasn't moved, still standing close to him. She smiled; it was everything she imagined it would be, everything she hoped it would be.

"Elizabeth… I…" he started. He was fighting the urge to pull her to him and kiss her hungrily. He missed her too much.

"I'm okay Henry. It was good" she said, smiling. "You can kiss me too. No hands, it's too much, but you can kiss me the way you always did. Just… Just tell me before you do".

"Can I kiss you now?" he asked.

She nodded, smiling. It was weird and awkward. He hadn't asked her if he can kiss her in such a long time. It was part of their day and she always welcomed his kisses, enjoying them. Now he had to ask for permission, as it they just met, as if they haven't been kissing for over 25 years now. It was just another example as to how different her life were, how different she was.

He leaned to her, brushing her lips lightly before deepening their kiss. With lips open, he kissed her gently, sucking her bottom lip, his tongue daring to enter her mouth. She moved her hand on his chest, wrapping it around his neck, pulling him closer. His hands didn't move. He wanted so badly to pull her to his embrace, to hold her tight, but she asked him not to and he wasn't going to risk losing what they already achieved. Kissing her right now was a lot more than he thought he was ever going to get.

Breaking their kiss, he rested his forehead against hers. "God, how much I love you" he whispered. He opened his eyes to see the tears streaming down her cheeks, and immediately took a step back.

"No Henry" she said, taking his hand in hers. "I'm okay. I just missed feeling that way".

"Promise me you'll tell me if it's too much?"

"I promise. I love you".

 _State Department, February 12_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:34_

"Madam Secretary" Daisy called as the staff rolled into her office, looks of concern covering their faces.

Looking up from the papers in front of her, she noticed Daisy was holding her black tablet, desperately trying to find the right thing to say to describe the next catastrophe that was now taking place. "You need to see this" Daisy said, handing her the tablet.

"Troubles in Paradise?" the headline read. "Is Dr. Henry McCord taking advantage of the recent events to start an affair? Dr. McCord was spotted leaving this woman's house late at night and sources confirm they have been seen together on other occasions as well".

A photo of Henry leaving Jane's house showed up next.

"With everything she has been through, it's not a surprise he would look for comfort at the arms of another woman" a close source tells us. "They have been distant ever since she returned, and I believe they're on the verge of breaking up".

Next was a photo of them kissing in Railway Park, a broken sign splitting the picture into half. "Once lovers" said the title.

"This political couple used to show affection in public every chance they had. They looked in love and they were going strong. But recently, it's rare to spot them together, let alone catch them in any intimate moment. This, along with the unexplained time Dr. McCord spends with this mystery woman, can definitely point to an affair.

The state Department had yet to release a statement, but it seems like Elizabeth McCord's life is falling apart piece by piece. How long will she continue her role as Secretary of State, before she realizes the toll is too high?"

Throwing her glasses on the desk, she handed the tablet back to Daisy and sighed. She was just so tired of being the center of every news cycle, of people constantly trying to undermine her, to show that she's weak, to destroy her. She's been through so much, she just wished to be left alone so she could pick up the pieces of her shattered world.

"Elizabeth!" Henry called as he ran into the office. "This isn't true".

She met his eyes and nodded. "Can you give us a minute please?" she said to her staff. Nodding, they all left the room quietly. Daisy had so much to say – they had to release a statement, they had to deny it, they had to show the world they're still running strong. But Blake took her hand and pulled her outside.

"They need to talk, and it's more important than any statement" he said to her.

"I know, I just can't stand the way they tarnish her like that. I want her to allow me to act. And the sooner the better".

In her office, she stood and walked over to him, standing close. She took his hand in hers, holding it tight. "Baby… I'm not having an affair, I will never do that" he said.

"I know" she said, smiling.

"Elizabeth you are everything to me. I will never find that with anyone else. And I will never take advantage of what happened to do something like that. I need you to know that. I need you to know that I will wait for you, until you get better, no matter when. I will never stop loving you, you have to believe that".

"Henry" she said, resting her hand on his chest, soothing him. "Stop. I know. I didn't believe it for one second. I don't care what they say, I know the truth".

"Why are you crying then?" he asked as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Because I hate that this is happening; I just wish they'd leave me alone. This is our private life and I hate that I have to give away explanations to our private life. And also because I hate that you have to pay this price too; that you had to run in here to tell me that it's not true. I hate that they made you feel like I could actually believe anything they said. And mostly, I hate that I'm not sure if I'll ever get better and I'm just afraid someday you'll get tired of waiting. I'm afraid one day you'll wake up and realize you're unhappy". She wiped her tears, swallowing hard. She didn't want to cry, she didn't want this to be any worse than it already was. It's not that she believed that article, but one thing was true – they have been distant, and it was her making. And the main problem was she couldn't promise him or herself that one day things will change, that they will get them back. She couldn't promise him any future of any kind.

"Baby, no. Please, don't go there. I meant it when I said we're in this together. I'm never going to get tired of you, and I will wait until the end of time if I have to. You make me happy every morning when I wake up to see you smile and every night when you close your eyes and fall asleep next to me in bed. Everything else is a bonus, as long as you love me and you're mine. I don't need anything else. Don't let this pressure you into anything, please. You're doing great, and we're taking it one day at a time, and you don't owe them any explanation. I'm here because I love you, and nothing will ever change that".

She nodded and he smiled softly at her. "She's my handler with the DIA by the way" he said.

She chuckled. This was just another reason why she loved him so much – in spite of everything, he still felt the need to make sure she knew everything, that no secret was kept from her. His ethics were something he truly believed in. "Why are all your handlers cute?" she asked.

"I honestly have no control over that" he laughed. "But no one is as cute and as beautiful as you are, darling".

She blushed at his words and turned her look away, avoiding his eyes. "Babe" he said, gently nudging her chin so she would look at him. His touch was soft, his fingers barely grazing her skin. Still, she had to close her eyes and breathe. He moved his hand quickly, realizing what he had done. But she opened her eyes and leaned closer to him, rubbing her nose against his. "Kiss me" she whispered.

 _McCord Residence, February 12_ _th_ _, 2016, 21:07_

"Mom?" Jason called as he walked into the living room to find her staring at the TV. She turned it off when she realized each channel was replaying the article about how her husband was cheating on her. Daisy wanted to release a statement, but Elizabeth didn't feel like explaining to anyone anything. The problem was, speculations went on and on, and if she wasn't going to put an end to it, they'd never stop.

"Hi Jace" she said, smiling at him.

"Where is dad?" he asked.

"He just called. He's on his way home and he's bringing food with him" she said, grinning. Her smiled fade just as quick when she realized Jason was buying the affair story, that he really thought his father was meeting his mystery woman, all the while he was telling Elizabeth lies that she bought. "Jace, it isn't true" she said.

"Mom, how can you be so sure? I've seen the pictures, and they are right – dad is out late, he comes home in the middle of the night sometimes. And he always has some weird excuse about being at work. He's a professor! He never stayed this late when he was at Georgetown".

"Your father once quoted Augustine, saying 'Truth is like a lion; you don't need to defend it. Let it loose and it will defend itself'. We know the truth, and you do too. Don't get sucked into cheap gossip, follow what you know is true. And you know we love each other very much, even though things are hard since I came back".

"Do you think things will ever be the same again?" he asked, sinking to the couch next to her.

She took his hand in hers and sighed. "I honestly don't know" she said.

 _McCord Residence, February 13_ _th_ _, 2016, 09:13_

She opened her eyes when she felt his hand searching for hers. She moved closer to him in bed and he leaned forward. "May I?" he whispered on her lips. When she nodded he kissed her, his lips moving against hers, sucking her. His tongue entered her mouth, playing with hers. His hand tightened the grip of her hand.

They stayed in bed for hours, kissing each other. It was snowing, quietly piling at their window. He pulled the covers on top of them, making sure she was warm. The house was quiet; the kids gave them all the privacy they needed. They still had to decide what to do, but right now they wanted to spend every moment they could enjoying each other's company. The rest of the world didn't matter anymore.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N** : Phew, that was a hard one. I'm not even sure why. I had it all ready in my head but since Thursday night I just stare at my screen and do nothing. I finally got into actually writing this afternoon. Not without many interruptions and distractions. But, well, a new chapter is ready, so I'm good, right? I wanted to say again thank you for sticking with this story – for reading, for following, for liking and for commenting. You make me smile, and you really really make me happy! Comments are a blessing! Keep them coming!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, February 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 12:45_

Elizabeth was sitting at the windowsill in the living room reading a book when Alison walked inside. It was a quiet Tuesday morning and all roads were blocked due to the snow. They were all huddled inside the house, covered in blankets, keeping close to the fire to stay warm. Henry had just left her side to make lunch and Alison decided to use the opportunity that her mom was finally alone.

"Mom can I talk to you about something?" She asked, taking the chair next to Elizabeth.

Glancing up from her book, Elizabeth smiled. "Sure" she said as she closed it and set it aside.

"Do you hate men now?" She asked.

Elizabeth's eyes opened in surprise. She was expecting some girl talk, maybe some fashion advice, but not this. Alison avoided talking to her about the sexual assault since she found out and Elizabeth didn't pressure her. She wasn't ready to talk much either. "What?" She asked.

"Some of the guys in school said... It's stupid, never mind".

"No" Elizabeth said, moving closer to Alison and taking her hand. "What did they say? I want you to tell me".

"They said that you now hate all men because of what happened and that's why you and dad are... You're... They said that dad is only here because you'd hate the drama of separating".

"Noodle that's not true. I love your father very much".

"Then how come... How come you never let him touch you?"

Elizabeth sighed. She was having a hard time explaining it to herself. "It's not because I don't love him Noodle".

Alison sighed. She felt stupid for believing the things she was told. She felt stupid that she asked her about that, that she brought it up.

"What is this really about Ali?" Elizabeth asked.

"Sex is a huge deal right now. And all the guys keep bragging about the girls they were with and they keep telling everyone details about how they slept with that girl or the other and one day I had enough and I left, because I couldn't listen to it anymore. The next day some of the guys came to me and asked if you made me hate men too. When I told them you don't hate men and neither do I, they said it's impossible, that after going through what you went through, you must hate men".

"Why did it bother you so much, the stories they were telling?"

"Because it's disrespectful. They were objectifying the girls, and sharing intimate details and I'm sure the girls they were talking about wouldn't want this information to get out. I hated listening to them talking about it as if they conquered some target, as if it was all about the sex and nothing more. They were arguing who nailed the hottest girl in class and it disgusted me".

Elizabeth nodded. Truth was, it disgusted her too. But that was the nature of men, and mostly the nature of guys in Alison's age. It was the same when she was a teenager and she was lucky enough to have her brother around to protect her and make sure she doesn't make some stupid decision. And then in college she met Henry, who was so different than the others. She wanted to promise Alison that it will change but truth was it wasn't. Some of them might grow up, meet someone special and realize how wrong this is, but some of them will forever talk that way, and mostly think that it's okay.

"Ali, are you having sex?" Elizabeth asked.

"No" Alison shook her head.

"Does it have something to do with what happened to me?"

Looking at the floor and fidgeting with the rings on her fingers, Alison didn't answer.

"Ali" Elizabeth called, taking Alison's hands in hers.

"I almost slept with James. And when I didn't he got all mad at me and never spoke to me again. And I keep thinking what would've happened if I had slept with him. He's probably like these guys from my class, and it would've been some conquer for him. I probably wouldn't have heard from him after that either. And I just… I can't help but think that if Stevie wouldn't have stopped us… And what if I regretted during? I'm afraid that if that's how they talk, that they'd do anything to get what they want".

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a minute. She had to take a deep breath. She didn't want to picture her daughter in this situation – being with someone, and finding out that he went and told his friends, that she was just some meaningless sex for him. She couldn't picture her being with a guy like that and suddenly regretting ever getting into bed with him. Where did the line draw for these guys? Were they really ones to force sex? It's not that she never thought about it until Alison brought it up. But it was now so vivid, such a huge part of her life, and she only now realized the role it played in her daughter's life as well. "Ali not all guys are rapists" she finally said.

"Maybe not. But they follow each other, and if one of them is, the rest will treat girls just the same. Look at Jason, at how he talked about this girl he wanted to date, ranking her in numbers to show how hot she is".

"Yes and dad put a stop to it right then and there".

"But not all guys have their dad do that, mom".

"No. And it's a shame if you ask me. But we taught you the same values Noodle, so you can find the guys that _do_ ". Henry said, walking into the living room and sitting next to Elizabeth. He listened to them talk, wanting to step in so many times. He wanted to know if someone touched his baby girl; if someone made her feel like she had to do something she didn't want to. He wondered how Elizabeth managed to stay so calm and listen to all the things Alison told her.

Elizabeth looked at Henry and smiled. She caught him listening, noticing as the rage took over him. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it, her fingers lightly caressing his skin. "Noodle, I wish I could tell you there's nothing to be afraid of, and that you shouldn't be so cautious. But you're smart and clever and I'd like to believe you won't end up with someone like that".

"You did" Alison whispered.

"Alison" Elizabeth started.

"No, mom. If you did, how will I ever feel safe with anyone?"

"You will when the right one comes along. Ali, some things are out of our control. But the things that are… You need to trust yourself that you'll make the right choice. You need to believe that there are worthy men out there. I know you think about what happened to me, and what he did to me, but when you do, think about your father, and how completely different he is".

Alison smiled as she caught the look her parents exchanged. It was subtle, yet so _them_. "Thanks" she said, standing up to leave.

"And Alison" Henry called. When she turned, he continued "If you ever feel unsafe, or if you just want to talk, we're here. Both of us".

 _McCord Residence, February 29_ _th_ _, 2016, 19:52_

"I'm home!" she called as she entered the house. It was unusually quiet for this time of the day. She was expecting to find her children in the kitchen, helping out with dinner. It was probably her favorite part of the day, coming home to her family, having the time to sit with them. But most of the lights were out; only a dim light came from the living room as she saw Henry half lying on the couch with his laptop. Bags of Chinese were placed on the coffee table, waiting for her.

"Right in time" he said as he sat up and smiled at her. "The food got here 10 minutes ago". Sitting, he pulled her hand and made her sit next to him. She leaned closer, stealing a quick kiss, before ripping the bags open to get the food out.

"Where is everyone?" she asked.

"Apparently, they all have a test tomorrow. Left for study groups. Alison said she'll sleep at Jennifer's, and Stevie said she might pull an all-nighter at the library. Jason texted me a few minutes ago, asked if he could stay up a little longer, I said yes".

"So it's just us?"

"Yep. Just you and me baby" he grinned.

As she quietly ate her noodles, he noticed her features changed, that she was nervous, that her mind was racing. "Elizabeth, does that scare you?"

"No! God no!" she said.

"So what's going on?"

"I just thought I'll have a few more hours before I had to do this" she sighed.

"Do what?" he set his food aside and took her hand in his. Whatever it was, he wanted to make sure she knew it was okay.

"I've been trying to get to the next step for a few weeks now. Each week I promise Dr. Sherman, and myself, that by next week I'll find something else I can allow you to do. It didn't even have to be something big, it could be just to let you rest your hand on my hip or on my back. But each week I'd go to my appointment with nothing. Because every time I think about letting you do these things, it terrifies me. So eventually Dr. Sherman decided we should work on why this scares me so badly. She asked me if I told you anything about what happened and when I said you only know bits and pieces from what the doctors told you, she said this could be why I can't move forward. The problem is there is no way I can get myself to sit down and tell you any of it. So she suggested I write it down". She walked to her purse and took out a pile of papers. It was mostly a ramble, a raw description of the most horrible time of her life. She tried to spare him the details, but as she wrote it down she realized that Dr. Sherman was right, and if Henry wouldn't know every single detail about what happened to her, she will never be able to feel at ease with him. Hesitantly, she handed him the papers. "You don't have to read it, but I'd be happy if you do".

He nodded, taking the papers from her. "Can you sit next to me while I do?"

"Yes" she said, settling back on the couch next to him.

" _He kept saying 'oh honey just wait, the things I'm going to do to you'_

…

 _He pulled my hair so strongly when I refused to say that I wanted what was about to happen._

…

 _He ripped my shirt off of me, and then he pulled my pants down as I kicked and screamed. I was holding tightly to my panties when he took my hands in his and held them so tight that I could feel the blood he drew._

…

 _He strangled me because I was screaming. He'd let go right before I fainted. He did that 4 times._

…

 _He left me lying on that bed, bleeding, like I was a piece of trash._

…

 _When he realized they were coming for him, he took his knife and began to stab me. They came in the last minute. I was sure I'm never going to make it out of there alive. After everything he did to me, I was actually grateful; I had no will to live anymore. But as those men walked into the room and I heard the shot and he died in front of my eyes; when they walked over to me and covered me, carried me to the ambulance; when they called and said 'tell Dr. McCord we have her'; it was then that I wanted to live if only to see your face one more time and tell you how much I love you"._

She watched him as he read the words. His face turned pale, his hands were trembling. At one point she thought he was going to throw up, or faint.

When he finished, he placed the papers on the coffee table and turned to look at her. His eyes conveyed so much pain and sorrow, along with anger and guilt. He was blinking back his tears, trying to hold it together for her. "Elizabeth, I need to kiss you. Please, can I kiss you?"

She nodded, allowing his lips to crash into hers. He rested his hands on her cheeks and pulled her closer to him as he kissed her hungrily, desperately. He wanted to take it all away from her. Every little thing. He wanted her to know that he will never allow for anything else to happen to her.

She squirmed under his touch, wanting to pull away, yet trying so hard to convince herself to stay. But even now, after exposing herself to him, his touch was too much and it reminded her of all the things she went through. She pushed him away, moving from his lips. She sighed with grief. She wished this would help, she really believed that it would. Realizing the only thing that changed was the fact that he now had to live with those memories too, she began to sob, covering her face with her hands.

He pulled her hands, taking them in his. "No. No. We will work something out Elizabeth. We are going to try, until we find something that feels right for you. You and me, together".

She nodded as she wiped her tears. She turned to look at him again, meeting his eyes that never left her. "Let's try this again" she whispered.

She closed her eyes as he pressed his lips to her gently, inhaling the air he was providing her as his hands reached for her face, resting on her cheeks softly and pulling her closer to him.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N** : Yes I know. I'm a shitty person. I promised last week that I will update this and I didn't. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting this long, I swear I didn't intend to. I just had some sort of writing block (more like a debate within myself on where to take this) and when I finally decided, I found myself buried in work so I didn't get around to it. Hope you forgive me for all the long wait! And I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I think either next chapter or the one after it will be the last chapter for this fic. Not quite sure yet. So please leave your comments to tell me what you think!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, March 10_ _th_ _, 2016, 07:03_

The regular commotion of their morning was in high speed that morning, so she didn't hear when her phone buzzed. Henry was standing next to her, pouring coffee into her thermos. Her phone was on the counter next to him and when he heard it, he reached to unplug it from the charger and hand it to her. But as he read the text that showed up on the screen, he paused, not sure of what to do next.

"Dad, do you think you'll have time to take me?" Jason asked.

When he didn't respond, Elizabeth turned to him, finding him holding her phone with a trembling hand. "Baby?" she asked, taking her phone from him.

"Bess, we got Sterling. He's dead". Reading Russell's text, she let out a breath and closed her eyes. _Finally_ , she thought. But before she could process the news, she heard the reporters outside her door. They were still obsessed with her marriage, still following her everywhere with questions about how her relationship was holding and whether or not she was seeking a divorce lawyer. And now this. She was so tired of having to deal with their questions, with their accusations. Looking out the window, she saw her detail push away the reporters, trying to scare them off. Matt turned to look at her and signaled that they will be going out the back to avoid the mess. She nodded.

Meeting Henry's eyes, she smiled. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Maybe this will be the beginning of the end" she answered.

He nodded as he handed her the thermos. Taking her hand in his, he walked her to the back door. He leaned forward to kiss her right before she entered the car, nuzzling his nose against hers. When they heard the camera flash, they broke their kiss and turned to see a reporter taking a picture of them. Frank pushed him away, angry. Sighing, she leaned her head against his forehead and closed her eyes. "Or maybe not" she mumbled.

"Maybe this will get them off our back" he offered, smiling. "And if not, then at least I got to kiss you goodbye".

Smiling, she pecked his lips again and entered her car. As the car drove off, she waived him goodbye, watching as he entered back into the house.

"I'm sorry about that Ma'am" Frank said.

"It's fine. There's not much you can do with them".

"There is but I'm pretty sure we're not allowed to do that" Frank said, smiling at her through the rear view mirror.

"If it was, I think Henry would've joined right in" she laughed.

 _Dr. Sherman's office, March 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 15:05_

They were sitting outside of Dr. Sherman's office, holding each other's hand. Her leg was jumping, she was clearly nervous. After trying to let him closer and failing, Dr. Sherman suggested a joint session and Elizabeth didn't refuse. She was determined to do everything she can to get back to normal. But as the session arrived, she found herself terrified. She barely ate anything as her stomach was in knots all day, dreading this. She knew nothing was going to happen unless she wanted it to happen, but she was so afraid to find out some truth she wasn't sure she can handle.

"Elizabeth, Henry, come on in" Dr. Sherman said as she opened the door of her office.

Standing, he pulled Elizabeth's hand, making her stand as well. He squeezed her hand and looked at her, silently reassuring her that everything will be okay. She nodded and they walked into the office, sitting next to each other on the couch. He kept holding her hand, running circles on her skin with him thumb.

Noticing that, Dr. Sherman smiled. This, along with the picture of them kissing that was spread out in every newspaper the past week, reassured her that with the right tools, Elizabeth will be able to move forward and heal just enough to be her normal self again around him.

"Elizabeth, any progress from last week?"

"I no longer feel that I need to know before he's kissing me. It comes out more naturally, and I'm okay with that" she said, looking at Henry who was smiling at her.

"Okay, that's good. It'll help us with what I want to do today".

Shifting in her seat, Elizabeth began to feel like the room was closing in around her. She didn't know what was about to happen, and it scared her to death. Henry squeezed her hand again and looked at her, trying to calm her without words.

"Elizabeth, we're not going to do anything you don't want to. You're in control, remember" Dr. Sherman said as she saw how tense Elizabeth was. "You can stop anytime you want if it gets too much, and it's okay. And remember, this is a safe place, nothing can hurt you in here".

Elizabeth nodded, letting out a breath. She had to remind herself that she was there with Henry, and nothing bad could ever happen to her while he was around.

"So here is what we're going to do. I want you to practice being together. I want you to do it here because I want to be able to guide you. So Henry" she said, now looking at him "Think that she just came home from a long trip, or maybe just from a long day at the office. How do you greet her? I want you to do the same now. Forget about everything that happened. She came home, and you missed her, so show her, let her know".

Nodding, they both stood. Elizabeth took a few steps back. She knew what was about to happen. Henry always greeted her with a hug, pulling her to his embrace. It was always the best part of her day – snuggling back into the comfort of his arms around her. She hated how much it scared her now, how bad it made her feel. He took her hand in his, his eyes not leaving hers. He wanted to reassure her, to let her know that he's not going to hurt her. Hesitantly, he moved closer to her, his arms slowly moving to wrap around her, pulling her closer to him. His arms were loosely holding her, allowing her to escape his embrace if she wanted to. Feeling the warmth of her body so close to his, he had to catch his breath. It has been so long since he last held her in his arms, he could barely remember what it felt like. But it was nothing like before. Her body was stiff and she was tense; and looking into her eyes, he saw the tears forming, the fear. He wanted her to relax in his arms the way she always did, he wanted his hold to make her feel better, not worse. Leaning forward, he kissed her, his lips barely brushing hers. She closed her eyes as tears began to stream down her cheeks, letting out a sigh. She didn't move. She didn't want to move. She thought that maybe if she could just stay there long enough it would start feeling good again. She wanted it to feel good.

"Elizabeth" Dr. Sherman called, as if trying to bring her back to where they were, to remind her she wasn't in that apartment with _him_. "Why are you not leaving if it's making you cry?" she asked.

Turning to look at her, she didn't answer. Just tears fell from her eyes, a confused look on her face. She couldn't move, even if she wanted to. Noticing, Henry began to move, wanting to let go of her, but Dr. Sherman stooped him. Resting her hand on his she shook her head "No. Elizabeth, you're in control remember? If you don't want this, leave. No one is forcing you into anything. Not now, not anymore. You're in charge of this, no one else. So come on, if it's making your feel so bad, push him, move from his hold. You don't have to stay".

"Babe?" Henry said, rubbing her skin gently, trying to shake her off this place she drifted too. She used to drift like that when she had a panic attack, but it was always combined with rapid breathing. Now it seemed as if she froze, as if she was holding her breath. He could sense her body stiffening more under his touch, the color draining off her face. He was afraid to move himself, not wanting to alarm her. Looking into her eyes, he understood – she was _there_ and she lost all hope of ever getting out. It was why she wasn't moving, it was why she didn't push him away. He hated that he was causing her this, that he made her freeze, that his touch was such a reminder of the horrible thing that happened to her. "Elizabeth" he called again, more loudly this time. He tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer to him. "Baby, you're here with me, you're safe" he whispered, but she didn't seem to hear him.

"Do something" he begged, looking at Dr. Sherman. He was helpless. He couldn't bear seeing her like that but he didn't know what else he could do.

"She needs to gain control, or this will happen every single time. If you let go right now, she will "unfreeze", but she won't remember a thing of what is happening and every time you touch her, she will freeze again. It's what we do when we're in stress and fear, and right now she's experiencing the enormous fear she felt when she was being assaulted, and her body does what comes naturally – freeze. After struggling with him, at one point you lose hope and your body enters into a freeze mode, as it is the last chance you have of saving yourself. The only way out of this is by gaining your trust back, and the knowledge and understanding that you're in change, that you can take off anytime you want. I want to try and give her a chance to do that, and I need you to be patient. I know it hurts to see her like this, but this might actually help".

He nodded. He read so much about it, he was well aware. He just didn't realize he would be responsible of making her feel so scared that her body froze. He never thought he could terrify her that much. He loved her, how could he make her this afraid? Looking at her again, he nuzzled his nose against hers and then moved to kiss her lips, pressing his against hers. As his tongue slipped into her mouth, it was as if he brought her back. Breaking their kiss, she pushed him away so hard he stumbled and almost fell to the floor. With his eyes that never left her, he scanned her, searching for some sort of clue, some sort of sign. He needed to know that this was not for nothing, that something will come out of it. Because at that moment, every single part of his body hurt, and he couldn't bear this pain anymore.

 _McCord Residence, March 12_ _th_ _, 2016, 09:08_

With her head resting on his chest, and his arm wrapped tightly around her, she opened her eyes when he moved to pull the covers on top of them. Shivering, she snuggled closer to him, trying to absorb the warmth of his body. Looking at her, he smiled and leaned closer to peck her lips.

"I didn't mean to wake you" he said.

"I don't mind waking up like this" she smiled as she moved to kiss him again.

Grinning, he rubbed her hand, trying to keep her warm. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah" she nodded, "I can't remember the last time I slept so well. Thank you for holding me through the night".

Nodding, he pulled her closer to him, moving to meet her lips to a soft kiss. They stayed snuggled in bed for as long as it was possible, until their kids woke up and they could her the commotion from the kitchen.

 _Dr. Sherman's office, March 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 18:45_

"Thank you for agreeing to come" Dr. Sherman said as Henry took his seat in front of her. "I thought it would be best if we talked after the last session. I saw you struggling, and I wanted you to know that this thing, the sexual assault, it doesn't affect her only. It never does. When someone we love gets hurt that way, it's only natural to feel all sorts of emotions – anger, pain, sorrow. I don't want you to deal with this alone. You have enough to deal with helping her, and I want you to have a place you can turn to".

"I just want her to get better. I know we've made progress, but I still walk on egg shells around her. Every time I approach her, I have to think twice. I don't want her to feel so trapped again that she freezes. And she understands that too; she still asks me to tell her before I do anything. And I know that just like the kissing, it's going to get better, but right now I feel like I'm moving between making her better to making her worse, and I hate it. I hate the whole thing".

"I can't blame you. But you need to give yourself a break. There's nothing much you can do. It happened, and now you both have to deal with it. And it requires patience and a lot of hard work. But I do believe she's on the right track to recovery. Just try to keep that in mind, see the progress she's making every single day, and hold on to that".

 _McCord Residence, March 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 19:56_

"Dad?" Henry said into the phone.

"Henry? What's up?"

"Hey, I'm… I'm glad I caught you. I…"

"Henry is everything okay? You're worrying me".

"Yeah, yeah. I just, I could use some father-son talk. Do you think maybe I can stop by tomorrow?"

"Sounds great".

 _McCord Residence, March 16_ _th_ _, 2016, 23:48_

"So you're going to see you father tomorrow?" she asked as she pulled the sweatshirt down her head.

"Yeah, thought I'd go for a visit".

"Just like that, out of the blue? We could've gone together, the entire family. You know the kids would love that".

"Yeah I know, but we can do that some other time".

Entering the bed, she rested her head on the pillow, crawling under the covers. He was already in bed, lying on his side. He looked at her, seeing her mind racing, trying to find the reason he suddenly decided to drive to Pittsburg to see his father. "Elizabeth, there's nothing to it, I just want to see him".

"Okay" she said, though he knew she wasn't convinced. She turned the lights off and turned to her side, her back facing him.

"Can I?" he asked.

Taking his hand, she pulled it around her body and shifted just enough to settle in his embrace. He held her tight as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, as his fingers entwined with hers. "You can also talk to me" she whispered. When he didn't respond, she turned her head to face him, seeing his eyes clouded with tears. "Henry…" she said, pulling him closer to her. "I love you".

"I know" he said, kissing her cheek again. "I love you too".


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** : As it's become sort of a habit, I will start by apologizing for taking so long to update. I tend to leave this story aside when I get sucked into different ideas. So I'm sorry about that. A note regarding this chapter – please mind the dates here as compared to the ones from last chapter. I know some of you wondered why I jumped from that session with Dr. Sherman to them being in bed together. This is the part you've been missing. I felt like I first wanted to get them together, for my sake mostly (I think), and explain _how_ later. I hope it will make sense to you after reading this one. And a side note about bringing his father along – I know that they had a tense relationship, but I sort of feel, and hope, that at times like this, Henry would still address his father for help. Anyway, that's me, but I'd love to read what you think. And on a more personal note – when you get to the end of this chapter you'll see that I wrote the ending in a way that allows me to end the story here. I still haven't decided if it's finished yet, or not. So for now I want to say thank you – thank you for reading, for being a part of this experience, for sharing your thoughts and for sticking with me. When I started this story, I did not expect it to become what it became. And here we are, 37,500 words later, and I can't believe you're all still here with me. So thank you for the support and for the love. You're truly the best!

* * *

 _Dr. Sherman's office, March 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 15:35_

"Elizabeth" Dr. Sherman called, resting her hand lightly on Elizabeth's arm. Elizabeth's eyes never left Henry's, seeing him so worried, so shocked. He stood still, not saying a word. He looked at her, he never saw her this frightened. He wanted to walk over to her, to hold her hand, to reassure her. Anything but to stand at the other end of the room and stare at her as she was so helpless. But at this point he wasn't sure that would do her any good and he was afraid he will cause more damage than help her.

"Elizabeth, come, sit down" Dr. Sherman said, pulling her hand and leading her back to the couch. "Here, drink this" Dr. Sherman said as she handed her a glass of water. It was then that Elizabeth's eyes finally left Henry. She looked at Dr. Sherman, tears forming in her eyes as she blinked them away. "This is a safe place, remember? Nothing bad can happen to you here".

Elizabeth nodded, tears falling from her eyes. Looking at Henry again, she reached her hand to him "Henry" she whispered, her voice breaking.

Taking her hand in his, he moved slowly, hesitantly taking the seat next to her. She sucked in some air as his presence was so close to her now and that made him pull back. He was about to stand up again, but she rested her hand on his knee. "No, stay" she said, her eyes meeting his. She wanted to say she's sorry – for scaring him, for pushing him. For failing. She wanted to promise him that she was not going to give up, that she will do whatever it takes until it feels alright. But as she sat there and looked at him, her mouth felt dry, the words stuck in her mind, unable to say anything. She never thought she would feel that way from his touch. She hated the idea that she might have lost one of the most important things she ever had. She hated _him_ for robbing her of that. As if _he_ didn't take enough from her.

Looking at Dr. Sherman, she was silently asking her to promise her it's not all lost, that there was still some other things they could try, that she has a solution. But deep down, she knew. It wasn't up to Dr. Sherman to provide any magic tricks. She had to do it, it was up to her, no one else. _This is a safe place_ she kept reminding herself. She was there with Henry, and Henry will never ever hurt her. Placing the glass of water on the table, she turned to face Henry again, taking his other hand in hers. She sighed, releasing the breath she was holding. "Let's try again" she said.

"No, Elizabeth… I'm not doing that to you again" he said, shaking his head.

"Henry… Please. We have to… Don't give up on us… _On me_ …" she begged.

Standing, she pulled him to his feet. And although it was the last thing he wanted to do, he agreed to try again. She took his hands and placed them on the small of her back, moving closer to stand in his embrace. She rested her hands on his chest, feeling his heart racing. It was funny, because she was sure that hers had stopped beating. Taking a deep breath, she moved closer to him, wrapping her hands around him, resting her head on his shoulder. She breathed his scent, the only reminder that it was him and no one else.

His hands still loosely holding her, afraid to send her into that nightmare again. The smell of her shampoo, the softness of her hair against his skin, to anyone looking on the outside it looked like _them_ again. But he felt how tense her body was and he knew – if she didn't want this so much, she would've moved away by now. She was forcing herself, against all, to stay standing, to allow him to hold her. She was hoping that maybe, one day, it will start feeling okay again, it'll be like _before_.

 _McCord Residence, March 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 17:01_

After a quiet ride home, they entered the house to find their kids in the kitchen as they started working on dinner. Alison was chopping some vegetables while Stevie was reading the recipe out loud to Jason, who was taking out the required ingredients. They were listening to some music, barely hearing as their parents walked into the house.

She stopped on her tracks and he turned to face her. She wasn't expecting them to be home. She needed time to break. She needed time to let it all out. Looking at her, he understood. She needed to be alone, because at that moment there was no one in her world that could understand what she was feeling, not even him. "Go upstairs. Close the door. I'll tell them you're not feeling well" he whispered, his fingers gently rubbing her hand, as if soothing her.

"Thank you" were the only words she was able to say, because she was fighting back the tears that were chocking her and she could no longer force that fake smile on her face.

She entered their bedroom and closed the door. Crawling under the covers she finally let go. She buried her face in her pillow, allowing it to absorb her tears, to muffle the tearing sounds of her cries. 3 months. 3 months passed since she was rescued from that dreadful place, from under the touch of the stranger who stole everything she ever owned. 3 months that she didn't allow herself to feel, that she tried her best to let everyone know that she was okay, that she was strong enough to get past this. 3 months that she told herself that she wasn't going to let _him_ win. But she was only now, finally, admitting to herself that although the bruises he caused her were long gone by now, and although she physically healed completely, some things could not be mended, some things could never be cured. She lost so much that night, not just the right to her own body. And no matter how much she tried, she was never going to get it back. A piece of her died that night, somewhere between his thrusts and his stabs, she lost a part of her forever.

 _McCord Residence, March 11_ _th_ _, 2016, 22:45_

He walked into the room and found her sitting at the edge of the bathtub, her tiny form wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping down her shoulders. She was holding a bottle of sleeping pills in her hand, her fingers moving on the sticker. Sighing, she opened the bottle and took out two pills, swallowing them down with some water. When she placed the bottle back into the cabinet, she noticed him standing there, staring at her. He wanted to ask her what made her take those pills. He was begging her for months now to take them, so she could get some proper sleep during the night. But she always refused. He needed so badly to know why now, why she decided on her own to take them.

She walked over to him, resting her hands on his chest. On tiptoes, she reached for his lips, kissing him softly. "I want you to hold me tonight" she said and he realized. The sleeping pills were the only thing to make her fall asleep in his arms. She wanted it _that much_. And he? He was hating this just as much. He wanted more than anything to hold her, he was waiting for that moment since she left for Kiev so long ago. But not like this. He hated that she was forcing herself to be with him, that she was determined to be okay with it, no matter what the price was. And he hated that she didn't talk to him, that she didn't tell him _why_. Maybe he would understand. Maybe, if she tried, he could see why she needed this to work so badly. If only he knew how, he would've done anything to _understand_. Right now, all he had to offer her was to agree to anything and everything she asked. He couldn't argue with what he couldn't understand, and if that was the thing she wanted, if that was what she believed would be good for her, he was willing to do it.

 _McCord Residence, Pittsburg, March 17_ _th_ _, 2016, 13:13_

Getting out of the car, he breathed the cold air of his hometown. He hated the winter in Pittsburg. It was always so cold, so unwelcoming. The houses on his street looking even more dull as ever, reminding him of his childhood.

Pulling the scarf and wrapping it around his nose and mouth, he smiled as he breathed in her perfume. She had more scarfs than he could count, but she always stole his, and at times like this, he wasn't complaining. He climbed the stairs that led to his house and carefully opened the front door. He chuckled. No matter how many times he told his father to lock that door, it was always left unlocked. Maybe it was a DC thing, but he was pretty certain burglars lived in Pittsburg as well.

The house was warm and quiet, as it has been for the past 3 years since his mother died. Before, he was greeted with the smell of some pastry or some home-made food that brought back childhood memories. Now he found empty cans of beer on the coffee table, and the TV running on mute, some meaningless commercials showing. He took off his coat, leaving his scarf on, and walked into the living room. "Dad?" he called when he didn't find him.

"Henry!" Patrick called as he walked down the stairs.

"Hi dad" Henry said as he hugged his father.

"What's going on son? You had me worried" Patrick said as they sat down.

"You know about… You _know_ , right?"

Patrick knew. Like the rest of the world, he read the articles and saw the pictures. But he was secretly hoping that it was all a vicious lie. That's why he didn't call. He was moving between not wanting to bother them at times like this, to hoping that if his son didn't call, that it didn't really happen. "Is it all true?"

"No, not all. I'm not cheating on her, and we're definitely not breaking up. But the rest… The rest is true".

"Henry, I'm so sorry. Can I do something to help?"

"I don't know dad. Her therapist suggested I talk to someone, and I didn't know who to turn to. She was the one I used to talk to, but with everything that happened, I don't think it's fair to burden her with what I'm feeling".

Nodding, he stood and walked over to the kitchen. Returning with two cans of beer, he handed one to Henry and took the seat in front of him. "I'm listening".

"I don't even know where to begin. It's like… It's like someone pulled the rug from under my feet and I can't seem get up. I want to help her, I see her and she's so tough and she will never admit just how broken she is. But I know. And I want to make it better for her, but I don't know how. I'm not even sure that I can. And it frustrates me, and it makes me angry. She's doing all these things that I can't understand and I hate them so much, but I can't argue, I can't tell her that I think it's wrong. Because she needs to control the things that she can, it's the only thing that makes her feel secure, like she has it under control again and then _it_ won't happen again. But I'm not so sure she's not causing more damage along the way, and I'm afraid one day she'll wake up to see what this had done to her, and the price it cost her. She suffered enough, I just… I don't want her to suffer anymore".

"I know that it's probably not what you want to hear, but you have to let her be. You have to allow her to do things her way, regardless of what you think. She is the only person right now that knows what's best for her, and no matter how much you try, you'll never understand. I know you want to do more, I get that. You love her, and you hate seeing her suffering like that. I was like that when your mom got sick. I felt so helpless when she went from one round of chemo to the second, and I had to sit beside her, hold her hand while she threw up, and then watch her die when she decided it wasn't worth the pain and suffering and stopped her treatment. I tried to argue, to tell her that she can't just give up like this, that she had to put up a fight. And she said to me – 'Pat, some things are out of your control, and sometimes you have to trust me that I chose the right thing. You have to let me choose for myself'. No matter how much I hated it, I couldn't argue anymore, and I was there for her, until the very end. Sometimes, son, the only way to help the people we love is to set them free, let them be".

 _McCord Residence, March 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 21:45_

She walked into their bedroom to find him sitting on the floor with his guitar. His pen and paper lying on the floor next to him, his fingers dancing on the strings of the guitar, generating the most delicate sounds. She stood in the doorway, where he couldn't see her, and watched him as he played. "Life doesn't promise a bed of roses or white knights…. They paint a picture of perfect nowhere, blue skies… Lightening strikes the pages keep on turning help me to be strong…" he sang, the words falling from his mouth, matching the music he was playing.

As she moved just enough for him to see her, he lifted his head and met her teary eyes. "Keep going" she whispered, leaning her head against the dresser in their bedroom.

He offered her his hand, asking her to come closer. "Come here" he said and she walked over to him, sliding to the floor next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he began to play again, the music conveying words neither of them could say. She closed her eyes as the tears slid, soaking in his shirt. And she listened. Listened to the music, to the words, to everything in between.

He couldn't save her, not this time. They both knew it. But as the music calmed their hearts, they understood that sometimes, you have to let go of the things you cannot win, of the things you cannot change.

* * *

 **A/N** : I forgot to mention that the lyrics Henry sings are "Where Do I Belong" by Anastacia


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** : Well, as you can see, this is not finished yet. I spoke to a few here and RenDot was the one to finally help me figure out how I want this to play. This is basically her idea (which I love and I hope you will too!). I am going to post this in two parts because it's longer than I thought and the second part is not ready yet and I thought, since I'm not sure when I'll finish it, it would be nice to actually update this story. You know, see if you're all still here with me (oh please be!). I'm hoping to get the second part up as soon as possible, and it might be the actual end of this, depending on how it will play while I'll actually write it. I'm sorry for the angst and the darkness, I warned you this was going to be a sad story. So yeah, if you're still with me, please tell me what you think! Means so much to me!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, December 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 08:32_

They were still sleeping. It was a Sunday morning and there was nothing they loved more than to stay up late in bed with each other. She was lying naked in his arms, the blanket covering their bodies. It's been a year since it all happened. A year since she returned, against all odds. A year that she was carrying this with her, the constant pain, the fear. She decided long ago to stop letting it control her, take over her. She decided long ago that she's going to do whatever she can to get better. _Whatever it takes_. It is why she was lying naked in his arms at that morning. The night before she made up her mind that it was _time_. He tried to argue, to tell her she wasn't ready. He told her that he can wait, that there's no rush. It was a big step, and he knew she was far from understanding what it meant. She was so focused on getting them back that she ignored all the emotions, all the signs. So it happened. And no matter how much he tried, she didn't _enjoy_ it. She said she did. But she was faking. After being together for so long, _he_ _knew_. But he didn't say a word. He didn't want to make her feel worse, like she failed some sort of test. A test she, and only she, put herself to. She fell asleep rather quickly. It drained her, trying so hard. She was tired all the time. Maybe it was also depression. He didn't know anymore.

He woke up to her mumbles, sounds he couldn't understand. Her cheeks were wet and he realized she was crying in her sleep. He stroked her arm gently, trying to wake her up. She stirred, still asleep. And then she moved from his touch. "Vladimir, stop. Please. Don't touch me. Please stop" she mumbled as she moved further away in bed, distancing herself from his body. She pulled the covers tightly around her, trying to shield her body.

"Elizabeth" he whispered, his fingers grazing her cheek.

"Stop!" she yelled, pushing his hand from her. "Vladimir, stop!"

He gasped. He got out of bed so quickly he almost stumbled. He pulled his boxers on and stood there, unable to say another word. She woke up by now, realizing what had just happened. She looked at him, and he was so angry, so hurt. "Henry" she called, trying to reach for his hand, but he pulled back, taking a few steps backwards. "No, I'm sorry, please" she cried, tears spilling from her eyes.

Raising his hand, he shook his head. "Not now" he said and turned towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He slid down against it and buried his face in his hands, sobbing quietly. This was what he feared the whole time. He didn't want to do _what he did_. He tried telling her that. He tried explaining that if he does things that make her cry, that make her uncomfortable, if she has to force herself, it's no different than what _he_ did to her. It didn't surprise him that she ended up calling him by _his_ name. Especially not after the night before.

He took a shower, needing to wash away the feeling of disgust, the self-hate. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror. He couldn't stand his own skin. He wiped his tears and taking a deep breath, he opened the door. He was expecting to see her there, still. Instead, he found a pile of clothes scattered on the bed, a fine mess of how she was feeling, of how he was feeling. He wondered where she went; if she was okay. He reached for her phone and dialed her number. But he never called. She needed space, it's why she left. Instead, he dialed a different number, one he knew by heart by now.

"Kinsey" he breathed into the phone, "it's Henry".

"What's wrong?" she asked. If he was calling her on a Sunday morning, it was nothing but bad news. He and Elizabeth have been seeing her for over 6 months now. She made sure to see each them alone, and then once a month she met the both of them. He talked to her, he told her that he was scared, that he hated what Elizabeth was doing. And she tried to get her to see it, but Elizabeth was too stubborn to listen. And he just kept telling her – one day, something bad will happen, and I have no way of stopping it. This phone call from him, now, meant that his fears came true.

"She called me Vladimir" he whispered, his voice breaking. "She… She didn't mean it, she was having a bad dream. But she pushed me and begged me to stop touching her. And she called me… She thought I was _him_ ".

"Is she still with you?"

"No".

"Okay. Can you come over? This can't be done over the phone".

"Yes". He hung up the phone and looked around him. The room was a complete mess, much like the way he was feeling. He was getting worried about her. He dialed her number again, but again he didn't call. She was with her agents, that he knew. So if anything were to happen to her, they would reach him. He had to give her space. And truth be told, he needed space as well.

 _State Department, December 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 09:48_

She was in her office, pacing. The State Department was empty, as it was a Sunday morning. She decided to come there because it was the only place she could wander down the halls freely, and it was the only place she knew she'd have the privacy she needed. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialed his number. She stared at the screen, the digits she knew so well. She didn't call. She didn't know what to say, not really. How do you apologize for something like that? He had every right to be furious with her, he warned her this would happened, he feared it. But she was certain she could never actually do something like that. Not even in her dream. She convinced herself that she knew his touch, and it was nowhere near Vladimir's touch. And she would know when it was Henry. But she was deep in the nightmare of that horrid night, and the feeling of Henry's hands on her bare skin was intolerable. The events of the night before triggered her recurring dream of being _there_ again, of feeling helpless, of begging him not to touch her. And at that moment, the only thing she felt was Henry's touch, and in her dreams, those were the hands of Vladimir. She hated herself at that moment. She never meant to hurt him like that, he had to know.

Deleting his number, she dialed a different one. She hated that number, and she hated that she memorized it by now. "Elizabeth" Dr. Sherman called as she picked up.

"I did something terrible. I… please you have to help me… I… I might lose him over this… I can't…"

Listening to Elizabeth, she heard her rapid breaths, the terror in her voice. "Okay, Elizabeth, are you alone?"

"Yes" she mumbled, trying to catch her breath, her tears chocking her.

"Do you think you can manage the attack on your own?"

Shaking her head, as if Dr. Sherman could see her, she began to sob. The only person who knew how to help her manage her attacks and get past them was Henry, and she was quite certain she drove him away. "I need you to take a pill. I'm not hanging up until I hear you breathe regularly again".

She wanted to protest, to refuse. But she knew she had no choice. And at that moment nothing else really mattered. She needed to fix the damage she caused, and she wasn't going to be able to do that if she can't breathe properly. With shaking hands, she reached for her purse, pulling out the bottle she hated so much. She swallowed it down and stumbled and fell to the couch behind her. She closed her eyes and tried to remember all the ways she knew for calming down. She was trying to remember the soothing sound of Henry's voice, lulling her back to normal breathing. She needed him; she hated admitting it, but she needed him. As independent as she was, Henry was the only person she allowed herself to lean on, and now, it was too late not to.

"Are you feeling better?" Dr. Sherman asked once the other end of the line went silent.

"I guess" Elizabeth answered, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was nowhere near better, and she wouldn't be until she'd fix it.

"I would like to see you. Can you come? Now?"

"I… Yes" she sighed. What she really wanted was to see Henry, but there was a reason why she called Dr. Sherman and not him. There was a reason she scrambled through her clothes and left in a hurry. There was a reason that she practically ran from him.

 _Dr. Sherman's Office, December 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:17_

"Can I get you anything?" she asked as he sat on the couch.

"No… I'm fine, thanks". Words aside, one look at him suggested otherwise. His hair was cluttered, his eyes red from crying. And his clothes, he dressed in a hurry, rushing to get away from the confining walls of their bedroom. He couldn't stand there a minute longer, not after what happened. His fingers were twisting the band on his finger, a force of habit when he was worried about her, about _them_. Interrupting his thoughts, the soft knock on the door forced him to look back at Dr. Sherman. No one ever bothered them during their sessions and it was odd. She didn't seem surprised. Henry closed his eyes the minute the door opened. The room was filled with her scent even before she walked in. He knew that smell so well; he was the happiest whenever he smelled it, knowing she was, _finally_ , there.

She walked into the room and stopped in her tracks at the sight of him. She wasn't expecting him to be there. But then again, she also called for help, why wouldn't he? Their eyes met for a split second, and then he stood and turned his back to her. She shivered at the coldness of his actions. He never turned his back to her.

"I thought it was best to have you both here" Dr. Sherman said, taking her place in her chair. "Henry, why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I don't think that's a good idea" he said evenly, not daring to turn around to look at her.

"Why?"

"Because". His voice was higher, but he didn't mean to yell. He was angry that she ambushed him like that, that she made him face Elizabeth. He wasn't ready for that, and he was pretty sure she wasn't either.

"I called him Vladimir" Elizabeth whispered, the words barely audible, falling into space. She was watching him, his body tensed, his shoulders slumped.

"No… You called me Vladimir after we had sex". He felt sick to his stomach at those words and he had to swallow hard and take a deep breath. It wasn't the fact she called him by that name. She was having a bad dream, it wasn't unreasonable. It was that this dream occurred _after_ , and it was this that awoke the demons, that sent her mind into that dream. And it was _him_. He did that, and he didn't want to.

 **TBC**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N** : Wow, you… I'm actually speechless. All the reviews, you made me smile so much, thank you thank you thank you! Now I'm afraid to let you down! I so hope this meets your expectations! This is still not finished, I keep throwing you small pieces. I'm sorry, I post what I write. This one was hard to write, it's harsh and straightforward. And it's angst. The whole damn thing. Sorry. Again, all ideas for how this one goes down is from RenDot and I can't thank her enough for the help! I will try to continue this as soon as possible, but I hope it'll do for now! I appreciate your thoughts on this, please share them with me! If only because they make my day!

* * *

"You had sex?" Dr. Sherman asked in surprise.

"Yes" Elizabeth answered, avoiding Dr. Sherman's eyes.

Leaning backwards in her chair, she sighed. It seemed like no matter what she said and how hard she tried, Elizabeth has made up her mind, and she was determined. She was also blind to see what was right in front of her. "I'm okay" she said.

"Really?!" Henry shouted, now finally turning around to face her. He was furious, and although he tried to keep it together, he couldn't hold it in anymore. "Elizabeth, stop! Stop pushing your feelings to the margins! You're not okay. You're not even close to being okay. God damnit, look where we are! What more has to happen for you to finally acknowledge the truth, huh? You were raped, whether you'd like to admit it or not. You were. And you hate it, and I don't blame you, because I hate it myself. But it happened, and no matter how much we both want to, you can't turn back the time. You can't! It happened, and the damage it caused, some of it is unfixable, and you have to accept it! But pushing it away, allowing yourself to feel this pain only when you fall asleep? That's not going to do any good!"

"Henry…" she mumbled, her hands gripping the pillows beneath her tightly. She never saw him like this, and it scared her. He never raised his voice like this. Never.

"No! I've had enough! You keep forgetting there are others around you that are affected by what happened. You keep making these decisions without giving one thought to how they'll affect the rest of us. I can't do this anymore Elizabeth, I just can't. I've been tagging along, doing whatever you wanted me to, whatever you needed, but no more. I will not do to you what _he_ did to you. I'm not going to be that man. I'm not going to be _him_. I'm not going to hurt you like this, no".

"You think I don't know that this is affecting you as well?!" she was angry by now and she started pacing around the room. "You think I'm not waking up every day to the reality that I lied still as he pushed inside of me, powerless to stop him. He was in full force, he had my life and my body in his hands, and no matter how much I wanted to push him off of me, to make him stop, I couldn't move. I was raped, he raped me. There, I said it out loud, I was raped, and I froze, and he _won_. What good did that do to either one of us, huh? I have to live this every single moment of every damn day, and then every damn night. I have to live in my own skin, with the feeling of his hands on me, and the smell. I want to scrape it off, but I can't. Can you blame me for trying to ignore it? To avoid it? Can you blame me for wanting to escape this? I can't live a life where this controls me. He robbed me of so much, I can't let him rob me of this as well!" She covered her face with her hands as she began to sob. Her body was trembling, her hands shaking.

"Time out!" Dr. Sherman called. Walking over to Elizabeth, she rested her hand on her shoulder, making Elizabeth jump and move from her touch. "Sit down" she said quietly. "Here, drink this" she said as she handed Elizabeth a glass of water. "Elizabeth" she said quietly, resting her hand on her knee. Elizabeth shivered to her touch. She looked at her, terror in her eyes. Her entire body was alerted, her hands still shaking, her sobs replaced by silent tears. "This is a safe place, remember?" Elizabeth shook her head; it didn't feel safe, nowhere in the world felt safe anymore. "What are you so afraid of?" Dr. Sherman asked.

" _Him_ " she answered.

Surprised, she turned to look at Henry. He stood there in silence, trying to read his wife. She couldn't be that terrified of him, could she? "Henry?" Dr. Sherman asked as she turned to face Elizabeth again.

For a split second, he forgot how to breathe. He needed to hear her answer, and he was so afraid he had done the unthinkable. "No!" she answered firmly, looking at Henry as he sighed with relief. _I could never be afraid of you_ , she wanted to say, but nothing came out as their eyes met for the first time.

"Elizabeth, Vladimir isn't here. He's dead. You saw it for yourself. He can't hurt you anymore".

"He might be dead, but I can still feel him next to me, threatening to get his hands on me again. Threatening to _do it_ again. And I just… I want to feel a real touch, to know that he's not really here, that I'm no longer lying beneath him".

It finally made some sense to him. She wanted to get him back, to get them back, because she thought, _wished_ , that it would make this feeling go away. "Am I some way to help you forget?" he asked, his voice low as he finally spoke to her again. His rage subsided slowly as he, for the first time since it all happened, got a glimpse into her thoughts, as he was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"I thought… I wanted you to be…"

He closed his eyes. It dawned on him then that all this time, whenever he touched her, it wasn't him. She had to cloud her own mind to be reminded that she wasn't there. It was why she took the sleeping pills every night before they went to sleep, it was why her eyes frantically searched for his when he touched her. "When am I not _him_?"

"When we kiss" she admitted, closing her eyes as tears fell down. It was the only thing _he_ didn't take from her, the only sanctuary she had left with Henry. It still belonged to them, and only them.

"So last night…?"

"I tried" she whispered, wiping away her tears.

"Elizabeth. Last night, were you with Henry or with _him_?" Dr. Sherman asked.

Elizabeth looked at her and said nothing. Henry's piercing eyes never left her, clouded with tears, anxious. "Why didn't you ask me to stop?" he asked, his mind racing as he thought that maybe she had.

"I wanted this. I asked for it. I… Henry, you did nothing wrong". She wanted to assure him. This was hers and hers only. He had to know that, he had to know she didn't blame him, she didn't think he hurt her.

"Elizabeth, it's okay to want something and then to not want it. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't not want it. Logically, I knew it was Henry, and I wanted this. I kept… I kept hoping it would feel like before, because it was so different from… It was Henry, and he… His hands, and his touch, and his lips on mine, I… I looked at him, trying to remind myself that I was with Henry, but I felt numb again, frozen. Powerless. I didn't want him to stop, I wanted my mind to quiet down, I wanted to feel Henry. But… I…" she didn't want him to hear this, he shouldn't hear this. She looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes. This has taken everything from him as well. Only this time, it was her doing.

"Elizabeth, did _he_ hurt you again last night?" Dr. Sherman asked, taking Elizabeth's hands in hers.

"Yes" she muttered, unwilling to say it out loud.

"When?"

"In her nightmare" Henry whispered, his own tears running down his cheeks, a shiver going down his spine. When her eyes closed, and all logic was gone, when the night overtook her, this was when she let herself feel. It was then that he came back to rob her again. Night after night. It was the only place she had no control again. "And I sent her right into it".

Burying her face in her hands, she began to sob again. She wanted to take this blame from him. She was the one to ask for this, he didn't _send_ her into anything. She should've listened to him, to Dr. Sherman. She should've listened to her own feelings. But she wanted to be stronger, tougher. She wanted to prove to herself that she's in control, that if she wanted something, then she had all the power in the world to get it. It was her life, it was her own wishes. And he was _dead_. How could he still hurt her so badly is he was dead? She couldn't let him win again. But he did. The night before, _he did_. Comprehending that, she suddenly stood, wiping her tears. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling him closer to her. He tried to fight back, to pull away, but she looked at him, pleading. She needed him to stay. She needed him to allow her to hold him, to comfort him, to reassure him. She needed him to read her silent promises that she will never let _him_ win again. He shuddered in her arms as her gaze brought him to tears. She rested her hand on his neck and pulled his head to rest on her shoulder, allowing him to cry, to break down. He let his hands wrap around her as he wept, the pain and turmoil of the past year finally finding its way out.

"Elizabeth" he said, pulling back to look at her.

"Shh, it's okay, I know" she nodded, her thumb grazing over his cheek, drying his tears.

"No, I have to say this" he said, his voice firm again. "I almost lost you. First in Iran, then in Kiev. I can't stand losing you to this too. And I am, losing you. And I can't help you either. I… You have to find a way to figure this out, you have to. I can't help you destroy yourself like this. You're the only person who can pull yourself out of it, and this will be the only way to move forward. Please, if you don't want to do it for you, can you please do it for me? This hurts _too much_ ".

"I don't know how, but I will find the way. I will get better. I just… Can you promise me you'll be here, that you'll wait for me?" she looked at him, practically begging him not to leave.

"I'm not going anywhere. Never". At his words, she pressed her lips softly to his, tasting his salty tears. She then leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes, her own tears trailing down her cheeks. She listened to his breathings, feelings his hands holding her still, and for the first time in a year, it was just _them_.

 **TBC**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N** : I am again speechless to all the comments you left. You keep this story going, just so you know. Thank you so much! Okay, so I wanted to write more for this, but it's 2am here, so I'm sorry, this is all I have at the moment. Hopefully I'll be able to update this soon, but I'm not making any promises. Angst alert here (as if this entire story wasn't angst). Sorry about that too. So like I said, you keep this story going, so comments are the key to get me to write!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, December 18_ _th_ _, 2016, 23:02_

They moved in silence. The entire day was quiet as they spent time with their kids, not daring to look straight at each other. As the night finally settled, they realized they had no choice – they would have to go into that _room_ again, and face all the mess they left there that morning. He followed her upstairs and watched her as she took a deep breath and walked into their room. She moved quickly, folding her clothes and putting them back in the closet. He helped her change the sheets and watched her as she passed by him to put the dirty ones in the laundry basket, brushing his hand just lightly. He caught her hand when she returned and she turned around for the first time to meet his eyes. Still conveying all the pain, she had to look away as she felt the stabbing in her heart.

"I'm not mad at you" he said, his voice calm and soft, calming her racing heart.

She met his eyes again, looking straight at him, fighting back the tears that welled in her eyes. "But you're so many other things" she whispered.

"I am" he nodded, "one of them is that I still love you _so so much_ ". He moved his knuckle to wipe the tear that slid down her cheek and squeezed her hand. She nodded, "I love you too". Hesitating, he moved closer to her. She nodded again, tilting her head just enough to meet his lips. He kissed her softly and so gently, his lips barely brushing over hers.

As their lips parted, he led her to the bed. Settling under the covers, they lied on their sides, facing each other. He took her hand in his, intertwining they fingers as they laid still on the mattress. He watched her as she closed her eyes and wished that just for that night she wouldn't dream; he wanted to take all her dreams away, to replace them with happy memories. Problem was, as the time passed, he was having a hard time finding those happy memories.

He watched her through the night. She woke up from time to time, meeting his gaze and falling back to sleep. He couldn't close his eyes. He felt that maybe, if only he stayed awake, he could fight all her demons away.

 _Dr. Sherman's Office, December 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 10:17_

"You didn't sleep" she observed as he entered the room. His eyes were red, dark circles under them. He looked tired and sad. He looked defeated.

"No, couldn't close my eyes" he admitted.

"Did she sleep?"

"A little, yeah. But she kept waking up. I don't know if it was because she had nightmares or because she was afraid I wasn't there". He hated how unsafe she felt since she came back; everything seemed to make her look over her shoulder, as if it was bound to grab her and hurt her again. Everyone knew it, it was why they all approached with cautious, even after all this time. But with everything that happened that day he knew fare well she was terrified he would leave, and it was more than the constant feeling of insecure.

"Something you said yesterday stuck with me, and I thought about it a lot after you left. This happened to you too. And in order to heal, you have to acknowledge that".

Meeting his eyes, she looked at him as he brushed a tear away. He wasn't one to cry; a strong Marine, nothing could break him. Except for one thing – watching his wife in pain, suffering. Knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. "It happened to her, and I wasn't there".

"No, but you are here now. Every single day. And you live with her through her nightmares and her dreams and the times she relives those moments".

"Yeah, and I still can't help her" he answered bitterly, frustration building up inside of him.

"Henry, you need to heal yourself first. And to be honest, I think she needs to heal herself as well. This is her battle, let her fight it. And stop beating yourself over this, it wasn't your doing. Listen, I think, right now, you're holding each other back. I think you need to separate".

His eyes grew wide and he gasp in surprised. "We are not separating! I love her!"

"I know" she smiled softly, "I didn't mean something permanent. I think you could use some time apart. You keep looking at her with so much pity and sorrow that you weren't there to save her, and she has enough of this going on in her life. And she, she's too deep in what happened and she's dragging you along with her – to the nightmares and the scare; to the feeling of never truly making it out of there".

"I can't leave her! I was standing right here yesterday and promised her I'm not going anywhere". His voice breaking, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He couldn't do this to her. He wouldn't.

"You are not leaving her. You're taking some space for the sake of both of you. I think you should talk to her about it. I think you'd be surprised to learn she agrees. If she doesn't, then we can revisit this idea, but what if she does?"

 _McCord Residence, December 19_ _th_ _, 2016, 21:21_

She closed the door gently behind her, placing her purse on the table, hanging her coat. She exhaled, allowing the exhaustion of the day settle in. She hated the mask she had to put on every morning. Being Secretary of State, everyone expected her to be strong, to be okay. It was easier to forget she was, at the end of the day, just a regular human being, having gone through something so terrible. She was so tired of explaining why she was always rather sad, looking so tired and constantly alerted. It seemed like it was so much easier to just put a smile on. She could cry herself to sleep later. But that was only possible while she still had Henry beside her. All the walls she built, all the masks she wore, it all crumbled down without him. She couldn't pretend, not today. Not after all that has happened. She held back the tears all day, but everyone around her noticed. She hated how close she had become with her staff, as they danced around her all day to make sure she was okay. She loved them for never asking what happened. But the pity, she couldn't handle the pity.

"Elizabeth" he called, his voice low, trying not to startle her. He was sitting in his office and he watched her as her mind raced and refused to give her some time out. He wanted to walk over to her but he knew it would make her jump and the last thing he wanted was to give her another reason to feel bad.

She turned around, plastering a smile on her face. She had to at least try and show him she was okay. She needed him to feel comfortable enough to talk to her and she knew that if she was going to break down, he would comfort her and set aside his own feelings. "Hi" she whispered, walking over to him. He looked at her and she almost felt like laughing. She wasn't fooling him; not for one second. He already knew – he read her like an open book and no smile could cover the pain in her eyes, the sadness in her heart.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking her hand in his.

"Yeah" she nodded, "as okay as I can be". She was leaning against his desk, staring into his eyes. He didn't speak, but she saw right away something was on his mind. She hated how he was walking on egg shells around her. He wasn't like that. They weren't like that. The one strong thing that was always true between them was that no matter what they felt at ease to open up, to say what was on their minds. But ever since she came home he was cautiously calculating every word, checking her state of mind to see if he should even burden her with his own thought, and worse – with his own feelings. She loved him for being there for her, but he had to understand that he was still her husband, not her therapist. "What is it?" she asked, squeezing his hand lightly.

He sighed, smiling tiredly. He rose from his chair, his hand leaving hers. "This calls for a drink" he said and walked over to the kitchen. She followed him, a concerned look on her face. She tried to block every thought she had; she wanted to give him the chance to speak up, to say what was on his mind before her mind went spiraling and he would have to comfort her yet again. Sitting next to the counter, she watched as he poured scotch to two glasses, as he walked over to the kitchen to add some ice. He handed her one glass and clicked his with hers, looking deep into her eyes. She took a sip, allowing the cold liquor run down her throat. "So?" she said after she swallowed the liquid.

"Dr. Sherman suggested something, and I… I want to know what you think. She, um…" he trailed, suddenly feeling like he lost all ability to speak. He was too afraid to say it, too afraid he might hurt her and lose the little progress they made over the past year. He didn't want her to think that he doesn't love her anymore, or that he was running away. But Dr. Sherman's suggestion made sense to him, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized this might actually be for the best. But she had to agree. He would never do this if she's doesn't agree.

"Henry, spill it out".

"She said we should take some time apart" he blurted, his eyes staring at the floor, not daring to meet her gaze. He held his breath, trying to listen to the sound of hers, to know if she was crying, if he had done the unthinkable. But the room was silent. So silent it was hurting his ears.

She took another sip from the drink, the alcohol warming her veins, somewhat sedating the pain she was feeling. "Yes" she said, placing the glass on the marble. With eyes wide open, he lifted his head to look at her. She wasn't crying, she wasn't on the verge of breaking down. She looked strong, solid. She looked at ease, at peace with the suggestion, with the decision. "Yes?" he asked, hesitant.

"Yes. I think… I think it could do us both some good. I… You said it yesterday – this is my battle, and I have to fight it. And I will. I'll find my way to fight it. But Henry, this has taken so much from you, and I _see_ what happened to me every time I look at you. I can't move forward with you looking at me like _that_. I… We need the space, we need to be apart. You need to get a good night sleep without me stirring next to you and keeping you awake. If only during the night, you need to be able to turn off what happened. I can't, but it doesn't mean you can't either. Or that you shouldn't".

He nodded, considering her words. He was surprised to learn that she agrees, that she found it to be a good idea as well. "Okay. But this, it's only temporary".

"I know" she smiled softly, taking his hand in hers. Leaning closer, she kissed him, allowing his lips to dance on hers. "I love you" she whispered as they broke from each other.

"Love you more" he breathed, capturing her lips.

Finishing her drink, she sat the glass aside. "So, any idea how are we going to do this?"

"I thought maybe it was time I take the religious ethics seminar at the Chicago University. It's only 2 hours flight from here, so if anything happens, I can be here in no time".

"Henry, I have an entire team of agents surrounding me. I highly doubt anything can happen". Considering her words, she suddenly realized how stupid it was. She had her agents with her while flying to Kiev as well, and it did her no good. It's not that she thought Henry could save her, they both knew he was only human after all. But it was comforting to know that he would; that he would sacrifice everything to save her.

He nodded, turning his look from her. He was still unable to let go of the guilt. He couldn't save her. He didn't. "It's three weeks" he whispered.

"And then you'll be back".

"Even before if you want me to".

She nodded. She made up her mind right then and there to be strong enough to survive those three weeks, no matter what. She rose from her chair and he watched as she placed her glass in the sink and walked towards the stairs. "Are you coming?" she asked.

Smiling, he walked over to meet her, taking her hand in his and letting her lead the way to their bedroom.

 _McCord Residence, December 23_ _rd_ _, 2016, 09:07_

"You have everything you need?" she asked, standing at the doorway of their bathroom, watching him as he packed his last bag.

"Yes" he nodded, closing the suitcase and placing it on the floor. He walked over to her and took her hands in his. "I'm going to miss you so much" he said, tears threatening to slide down his cheeks.

"Promise to call?" she asked, her voice shuddered and unstable.

"I promise. And I'll come back Elizabeth. I will. It's only three weeks". As she nodded, he reached his finger to dry her tears and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She then felt his lips on hers as his hand brought her chin closer to him. He kissed her deeply, savoring every last minute he had with her, promising all he could.

She didn't walk him to the door. She couldn't. She couldn't watch him leave. As far as the kids were concerned, he was only leaving for the seminar. But they knew better. And in spite of his promises of returning, and although she had no doubt in her heart that he would, she couldn't stand to watch him disappear into the car, knowing they had willingly decided to break apart for the first time in over 30 years. They didn't know how to live apart. They have never been apart, not since they met. Sitting at the bench next to their bed, she looked around the room. It felt so empty, and he was only gone for 5 minutes. She was fighting the urge to run after him, to tell him this was a mistake. She knew that it wasn't. She knew they made the right choice. But her heart ached so badly that the reason was pushed aside. She began to sob quietly, her hands moving to wrap around her body, replacing _his hands_. Three weeks. It felt like _forever_.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N** : I saw on Tumblr a few days ago a very accurate description of how comments work – you send in your comment, making the author happy, which inspires the author to write more. Yep, that's pretty accurate. So really, thank you so much for making me happy, and inspiring me to continue this. I do plan to end this story at one point, but I still have a few things to get done first. I am getting back to Henry and Elizabeth in full force next chapter, but I needed some family love first. I am again sorry for the angst. So, yeah, comments? They're awesome.

* * *

 _McCord Residence, December 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 00:14_

Standing in front of the open fridge, the cold air hit her face. She shivered slightly, letting out a sigh. She wasn't looking for anything in particular. She just couldn't sleep. And she couldn't quiet her mind. Walking down the stairs to find her mom staring, Stevie walked over to her. "Mom" she called softly.

"Hey baby" Elizabeth smiled, closing the fridge's door. "Why are you up? Go back to sleep".

Moving to sit next to the counter, Stevie reached for her mother's hand, asking her to join her. Raising a brow, Elizabeth took the sit. "We can't sleep" Stevie said, looking at Alison who entered the kitchen as well. Elizabeth shifted uneasily in her chair. This wasn't a good sign. "And Jason?" she asked, hesitant.

"He's upstairs in his room. We figured you'd be more comfortable talking to us" Stevie answered.

"What is this about?" Elizabeth asked, her look moving from Stevie to Alison, trying to read their faces. They both offered a fainted smile, and nothing more.

"Are you and dad getting a divorce?" Alison asked quietly.

"No" Elizabeth answered immediately, shaking her head. But Alison and Stevie weren't convinced. And she couldn't blame them. With everything that happened the past couple of days, it wasn't unlikely for them to break up. And with Henry gone so close to Christmas, it was only reasonable they'd ask this question. Problem was, she wasn't sure she knew how to explain to them this situation, or the reason he left. She was doubting the reasons they made this decision from the minute he left, and she knew they would be hard to convince.

"Mom, come on, we _see_ things" Stevie said. "Yes, and we're not dumb. Dad's not really at the seminar is he?" Alison asked.

Elizabeth sighed. She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. She wasn't fooling anyone. _Boy, how I wish you were here right now_ , she thought. Taking her hand in hers, Stevie squeezed it tight. She wanted her mom to know that it was okay, that she could tell them. Whatever it was, they were old enough to deal with it. And they were old enough to understand that what their family has been through in the past year, was bound to cost them something, if not _everything_. "He is at the seminar, actually. And I'm not lying, we're not getting a divorce".

"What made him go? And don't say he's been meaning to go for years. The reason he didn't go was because it meant he would miss Christmas. So something must've happened that made him, all of a sudden, decide to go". Biting her lower lip, Stevie regretted the way she said those things. She didn't mean to sound angry, or like she was demanding answers. But they wanted to know the truth, and they hated when their parents hid things like this from them. They deserved to know. "And you both stormed out of here on Sunday, and you have been distant ever since" Alison added softly, gently stroking her mother's hand.

Elizabeth looked down as she felt the tears welling in her eyes. If there was one thing she truly hated was crying in front of her children. She put them through so much, throughout their entire life. And now this. The deserved better. Noticing her tears, Alison moved closer to her, resting her hand on her mother's back, rubbing her gently. "You miss him, don't you?" she whispered softly. Covering her face with her hand, she nodded as she began to sob quietly, the tears streaming down her cheeks. Moving closer to her, they both wrapped their hands around their mother, holding her tightly. Exchanging looks, they were both worried. They secretly hoped that she would reassure them; that she would convince them everything was okay. They weren't willing to accept the bitter truth that their parents were breaking up. Growing up in the McCord residence, their parents' marriage was the one thing that was always as solid as a rock, no matter what happened. It was comforting, to know they love each other so much to overcome all obstacles. And it was why it felt like the ground moved beneath them as they realized their pillar was falling apart.

"We decided to take some time apart" she finally whispered. The sobs died down, but the tears kept sliding down her face. She didn't bother to wipe them; not when the thought of his gentle finger drying her tears crossed her mind, making her eyes well again. "Something did happen on Sunday. A setback, I guess. And we are trying to fix this. I'm _trying_ to… We decided it would be for the best. But he is coming back. In three weeks, he's coming back. He promised".

They both nodded, drinking in their mother's words, clinging to her silent promise that this was only temporary. They needed to believe this, even if it wasn't true. After feeling like they are a target for so long, they needed something to feel like their _fortress_. "Ali" Stevie whispered softly, "I think Jason is losing his mind in his room" she smiled lightly. Alison nodded and stood. She understood.

As they were left alone, Elizabeth turned to look at Stevie. She knew why she asked Alison to leave. But she didn't feel like talking about it, think about it. It is all she has been doing since Sunday morning. And she didn't want Stevie to know. But Stevie was too much like her, that she knew her too well. "So the setback" she trailed, not meeting Elizabeth's eyes. "Was it something dad did?"

Elizabeth chuckled, but tears formed at the corner of her eyes again. "Your dad is incapable of hurting a fly".

Stevie smiled. "That's not entirely true. If the fly is threatening to hurt you…" she teased, making Elizabeth laugh. "That's true" Elizabeth said, wiping away her tears.

"Mom… Tell me what happened".

"I… It's private. And… I don't want you to know. It's not… It's not something you need to know".

"Why? You don't think I can handle it?"

"No, I do. I don't want you to. I don't want you to think about it". As the words left her mouth, Elizabeth caught the look on Stevie's face. She was wise, and she figured out her mother's tradecrafts over the years. And she knew how to read between the lines. And boy, was she good at putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Was it the first time since…?" she reached for Elizabeth's hand, her eyes never leaving her.

Elizabeth didn't answer. She was staring at the floor, cursing the minute she opened her mouth. She should've gone to bed; maybe then she wouldn't have been sitting there having _this_ conversation with her daughter. Stevie watched her. She watched as she tried desperately to avoid the questions, the truth. She didn't know what happened that hurt them both so badly; but she was smart enough to understand that it must've triggered her rape, that whatever happened was somehow related. She wanted to know more. Not for herself. She wanted to be there for her mother, to support her. She wanted to let her know that she has someone, that she wasn't alone. Especially now that her father was gone. But saw how she struggled, how bad it made her feel. So she didn't push. Instead, she rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around her mother. "I'm here if you ever want to talk" she whispered in her ear as she tightened her grip.

 _McCord Residence, December 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 03:33_

She rolled over in bed yet again. She couldn't sleep. The bed was too empty without him. The conversation she had with Stevie still lingered. Everything was starting to feel a little too much. And he was gone. Her one and only, her true sanctuary. She agreed to let him go. Looking at the clock, she sighed. She wished for the morning. She wished that he would be there when she wakes up. She twisted the bands on her finger when her phone buzzed.

"Hey baby, I am hoping you're asleep, but decided to try anyway, just in case. I miss you. And I love you. And I am so lonely without you". Reading his text, she smiled through her tears. She dialed his number. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard his low voice as he picked up the phone. "God I'm glad you're awake" he breathed.

"I can't sleep without you. It's ridiculous".

"Well, I'm here now. Dry your tears and close your eyes, I'm with you".

"Tell me something happy, will you?" she whispered.

She fell asleep to the sound of his voice telling her of a better time, once in their past. The call kept running, and he fell asleep to the sound of her even breaths. It was as close to being together as possible at that moment.

 _McCord Residence, December 24_ _th_ _, 2016, 09:18_

Her eyes flickering shut. She stretched in bed, reaching to pull the covers on top of her. She was more than ready to fall back to sleep. But a faint voice coming from downstairs was too familiar and her eyes opened wide. She threw the covers away and jumped to her feet. Walking down the stairs, she saw the tree standing in their living room; Alison and Jason were getting out the decorations while Stevie was making string popcorn. "Will" she breathed and he turned around to meet her eyes. Smiling, he walked over to her. He hesitated, but she pulled him for a hug and he wrapped his arms tightly around her slim figure, almost picking her up from the floor.

"Good morning sis" he said as he released her from the hug.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Making sure you have a tree" he grinned.

"Did he also tell you what happened?" she asked once they were left alone. Stevie gathered her siblings as she understood they needed privacy to talk.

"No. I didn't ask. It doesn't really matter. He said you were alone, and we promised each other a long time ago to never spend another Christmas alone ever again".

She smiled. The last time she was ever alone on Christmas was when they decided to stay in school. She soon met Henry, and as luck would have it, he met Annie. But right before, they made a promise to each other, that no matter where they are, and no matter what happens in life, they'd make sure neither one of them was alone for Christmas.

"But if you want to tell me…" he trailed. They never had a great communication. They were never really that close. Mostly because the day their parents died, they both built a wall around them, to protect what was left of their shattered heart. It was a lot easier to hide behind the feelings than to talk. It was a lot easier to spend the holidays eating dinner in front of the TV than trying to be a family. Their family was incomplete, so what was the point? But even so. He found himself sitting with her on the couch in her house, trying to make her feel comfortable enough so she would talk to him. If there was one thing he knew for sure was that things were bad if Henry left.

"I'm all messed up" she said, her voice low, breaking at the tears threatened to come down. "And I hurt him. So badly that I might have messed up the one good thing I ever had".

"Lizzie, he told me you wanted this too".

"I did. I… I am hoping it will do us some good. But I am not sure I can ever take back what I did". She sighed with sorrow as she voiced her feelings for the first time. She knew they both needed to heal; but the question was – will they ever be able to mend all that was left broken between them?

"If there's one thing I learned in life is that you have to let go of the past. He is still here, so whatever it is that you did, it didn't chase him away. Now focus on how to move forward from where you are. Together".

 _McCord Residence, December 25_ _th_ _, 2016, 00:01_

He phone rang. She was holding it in her hand. She knew he would call. She was waiting for him to call. "Hi" she answered.

"Merry Christmas my love".

"Merry Christmas baby". She closed her eyes and smiled, imagining him lying in bed next to her, kissing her lips softly.

"So did he already drive you crazy?" he asked after a moment of silence.

Laughing, she shook her head. "Thank you for calling him".

"I hated the idea of leaving you alone".

"But you're alone" she said, her voice breaking.

"I'm surrounded by at least a dozen religious scholars. Don't worry about me" he chuckled. "You gift is in the third drawer of the dresser".

Smiling, she got up from the bed and walked over to the dresser. Opening the third drawer, she found a small velvet box, holding a small chain charm with the words "Forever mine" engraved on it. "It's for your necklace" he said.

"Open the inside zipper of your suitcase" she instructed, smiling.

Taking out the box, he found the matching charm, with the words "Always yours" engraved on it. He smiled. "How did you…?" he asked.

"I didn't. I saw it and just… I wanted you to know…" she wanted to say more, but her tears caught up with her and she had to swallow hard.

"Will you?" he whispered softly, "be forever mine?"

"Until death do us part".


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N** : So again, I am amazed by the amount of comments, and this is me and my giddy smile, and I am so happy reading them. Thank you! So the last time I said this was done, I ended up writing 4 more chapters (this one included) so I'm afraid to say it again! But it might be done. And if it's not done, then the next one will be the last chapter. I am trying to find a way to end this properly. A little confession about this chapter: there's a lot of _me_ in here. I think when I decided to turn this into a sexual assault fic, this is what I wanted to bring in. I really do hope that you'll like this! Don't forget to leave your comments, they are all the encouragement I need.

* * *

 _Dr. Sherman's Office, December 29_ _th_ _, 2016, 18:30_

"So, how are you holding up?"

Elizabeth smiled lightly, finding the question a bit ridiculous. She was the Secretary of State. She was an independent woman. She was perfectly capable of managing 3 weeks without her husband. And yet, it's been a whole week and she wasn't sure how she was still holding up. She missed him. Sure, they talked every night when he was finally in his room again. But hearing the sound of his voice was nowhere near feeling his presence next to her in bed. Funny thing was, that in all this time since she came back from Kiev, they were never really _truly_ with each other; she only now realized she's been missing him of a whole year, and him being completely gone now was just the last straw. "I have another two weeks of this" she chuckled, but the tears in her eyes were threatening to fall.

"Do you regret this?"

"No. I think this distance is good. Reminds us of what we are without each other, and miss being _together_. But it doesn't make it any easier, does it?"

Dr. Sherman nodded. When she suggested the idea to Henry, she knew it would be hard for the both of them. They didn't really know how to be apart from each other, but it was proving to be the thing that was keeping them in place now. With Henry gone, Elizabeth had to find a way to deal with her biggest fear. She would have to face _him_ again, once and for all. She could no longer hide behind the need to save her relationship with her husband, or wanting to live a normal life. She had to, _finally_ , deal. "I have homework for you" she started, and Elizabeth met her eyes instantly. "You said that _he_ is still here, that you can still feel his presence. I do believe it's because you never really had a closure. Do you know why most rape victims eventually do press charges? Most of them choose to keep this to themselves, much like you have before it all went public. I'm not sure you ever stopped to ask yourself if you had told Henry about this, if he didn't know. The thing is that most victims feel ashamed; they blame themselves for ever being in that situation. And it takes a long time and a lot of work to get them to realize it wasn't their fault, that someone did this to them. But then comes the time to make the person in charge pay his own price, and they freeze again. The reasons vary – some are scared he would hurt them again, some are afraid of the "second rape" the public will make them go through, and some just don't believe there's ever a good punishment for what he did to them. But those who do fall through with the complaint, those who choose this path, they do it so they can face their attacker one last time and say all the things they have been feeling since the attack. It's not because he cares and it's not that they are after his apologies. They know fare well no apology would bring back all that he has taken. But it's closure. It's finally standing up to him where you couldn't before. It's empowering, if only for the feeling that you've made it".

"But he's dead" Elizabeth whispered, as if afraid to say it out loud, as if she could be proven otherwise.

"He is. But you still feel his presence, so it doesn't really matter".

Raising a brow, Elizabeth had a questioning look on her face. "Elizabeth, it doesn't matter if he's dead or alive. The things you have to say to him would fall on deaf ears, and you know there's nothing he could say or do that will make you feel any better. The point is not for him to _hear it_ , but for you to _say it_ ".

"Kinsey, I don't know _what_ to say" she admitted. She never really thought about it. Maybe it was because he was dead and she knew she would never get a chance to actually tell him anything. But maybe it was also because she was too afraid to face it, to think about it. Maybe it was because it was easier to hide behind the reality of him being dead.

Dr. Sherman smiled, "that's why I said I have homework".

 _McCord Residence, December 29_ _th_ _, 2016, 23:23_

She was pacing around the room with the notebook in one hand and a pen in the other. The yellow page held three words. It is all she managed to write in the past three hours. When her phone buzzed, she sighed loudly and threw the notebook and pen on the bed. Reaching for her phone, she smiled at the sight of his name on her screen.

"Hey stranger" she said as she picked up.

Henry smiled to the sound of her voice. He waited for it all day. It was a rough one, too. He couldn't quite point it to something in particular, it wasn't that something happened. But he just woke up with the deepest pain of missing her so much and he wanted nothing more than to catch the first flight home to run to her. Hearing her was as soothing as he expected it to be.

"Henry? What's wrong?" she asked when he didn't respond.

"Nothing, nothing" he hurried to calm her, hearing the concern in her voice, even 500 miles away. "I just miss you today more than ever, I guess". She nodded, saying nothing more. She missed him too. "But I'm okay, I am. Tell me something about your day".

She lied on the bed, sinking against the pillows. "Kinsey gave me an assignment and I'm doing a lousy job of handling it".

Henry chuckled. If there was one thing he knew Elizabeth hated the most was the assignments Dr. Sherman gave her. Mostly because they usually worked and she hated admitting it. "What's the assignment?"

"I'm supposed to write down what I would say to _him_ if he was still alive. All I have is 'I hate you', which is quite obvious".

"What's holding you back?"

"I don't know. I guess… I'm trying to picture myself standing up to him, facing him again and telling him all that I feel. But whenever I do, I… I get speechless; I freeze again. I'm too afraid to face him alone".

He sighed. This was the second time. It was the second time he was failing her, breaking his promise to keep her safe, to protect her. The first time was when she left for Kiev, when he couldn't save her from the hands of this devil. Now, again. He had to be there with her, to hold her hand, to tell her she's not facing him alone, that he was right there beside her. He wanted to be there with her so that she could have the outlet she needed, and still feel safe. But he was far away, and again he could do nothing but listen to her as she told him how scared she is. "I'm sorry" he whispered.

"What are you sorry for, baby?"

"Right now for not being there with you. But mostly, I'm sorry for ever letting you get on that plane; for not saving you. I should've saved you. I should've stopped this from happening. I failed. I failed as your husband, I failed you".

"Henry… No". She wondered what had made him think that she was blaming him, or that it was his job to protect her from this. She wondered how long he was carrying this guilt of not saving her. "You are not my savior. This is not your job".

He wiped his tears, but they just fell again, strolling down his cheeks. "I broke my vows".

"Baby, you can't vow to something that is out of your control. And the vow that matters the most, _in sickness and in health_ , you are here, through every step of the way. I don't need anything more".

"Elizabeth, _he_ hurt you. So _badly_. And there's nothing I can do".

She closed her eyes as she felt the pain in his voice running through her veins. There was nothing more she wanted at that moment than to pull him to her and hug him tightly. She wanted to fight _his_ demons, to chase away the feelings of guilt and failure. She wanted to have the ability, with her touch and her kisses and her love, to make him understand, to make him stop feeling like he was responsible. "There is nothing you need to do. Nothing more than just being here with me" she said, her voice calm and soothing, and it almost felt like music to his ears.

She reached for the notebook again – "I hate you" was engraved on the paper. "You can't beat me"; "I won"; "I'm still here" she scrabbled. "I am a survivor. I am a fighter. Yes you hurt me. You robbed me of so much. But I'm here. And I'm not alone. And you can't hurt me ever again".

Henry listened as he heard the faint voice of her hand moving along the notepad, of the pen drawing letters. He smiled. He was there with her, and it was all she needed. "Tell me what you wrote" he said when the sounds died.

She read the words to him, her voice firm and steady. For the first time she felt secure, she felt confident. He felt a relief wash over him; he missed hearing her like that. This was the woman he knew all his life. He felt proud, that she found such power, that in spite of what happened, _she won_. It was, as Dr. Sherman said, empowering. She just didn't realize it would be that for _the both of them_.

 _Rape Victim Advocates, Chicago, January 7_ _th_ _, 2017, 10:34_

He opened the doors slowly, hesitant to walk inside. He wasn't sure he belonged there. But Dr. Sherman convinced him to go. He wasn't even sure how, and yet he found himself standing there, looking around him. There was something warming about this place, _inviting_. It was quiet.

"Sir?" a soft voice called from behind him. He turned around to find a woman standing in front of him. She was probably Elizabeth's age. She had a soft smile on her face, some comforting brightness in her eyes.

"I'm sorry" he said, starting to walk back to the door, "I shouldn't have come" he mumbled.

"Wait" she called, "but you did come. Something made you come. Why don't I get you something to drink? You can make yourself at home".

He hesitated for a moment, thinking of what he wanted to do. He did come for a reason. But it felt foreign to be there. This place belonged to those who were sexually abused. It was formed to help them. Who was he to seek help in a place like this? It wasn't meant for him. But he was drawn to go back inside, to accept the offer. She led him to one of the room and placed a cup of coffee in front on him. She sat across from him and offered another smile. "I'm listening" she said.

Henry smiled, looking down at his hands. "I don't really know what to say. I guess you know who I am; you know why I'm here".

"We don't allow the news to dictate our thoughts. I know nothing until you tell me, and even then, I am here to listen. It's your choice what to tell me. You can also say nothing. We can just sit here. I'll just sit here with you. I am here, that's all you need to know. I am here and I will listen if you want me to". She examined his features, hiding her own thoughts. She was working at the RCA for over 20 years now, and she came across all possible stories. Yet she never thought she would be sitting across from the Secretary of State's husband. It only served in reminding her the painful truth she knew – no one was immune. Sexual assault came in all shapes and colors, and it could hurt anyone and everyone. It was this that sent her so long ago to volunteer there. It was this that made her dedicate her life to helping the ones affected by this.

"Does the pity ever go away?" he asked suddenly.

"Your pity or others?"

"Mine. I… I just feel such pain over what happened to her, I want to change it. I hate that she's suffering so much. And it's showing. When I look at her, it's showing. And I don't want her to feel like I pity her. I don't want to constantly remind her of that. I don't want her to think that this is _all_ I see when I look at her".

"Is it? All you see when you look at her?"

"No. I don't know… Maybe".

"Why?"

"I can't _not_ see it".

"You don't need to ignore it, it happened. But it's not all that she is, it's not what defines her. Sure, she changed; she's not the same as _before_. But major events in life change you, and you learned to get to know each other all over again, right?"

 _McCord Residence, January 13_ _th_ _, 2017, 06:04_

As the sun crept through the shudders she opened her eyes. Adjusting to the light, she breathed in the scent of his perfume. He was standing at the doorway of their bedroom, watching her as she slept. It was the first time since she came home that he saw her sleeping peacefully. It's not that she stopped having nightmares, or that the assault had stopped haunting her. But she was more at ease, adjusting into the new reality that was now her life. She turned around, her eyes landing on him, needing to _see_ that she wasn't dreaming. She still couldn't believe it's been three weeks. That they made it, three weeks without each other. She threw the covers off of her and jumped out of bed. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck, peppering kisses on his cheek.

Taken by surprise, he tried to push her slightly, to meet her eyes. He needed to know that she was okay, that he could _touch her, hold her_. He was still unsure, still getting to know her. He was still trying to learn what was right and what was wrong. But she didn't move; she only tightened her grip, pulling him closer to her. "I missed you" she whispered in his ear. It was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped his arms around her and the warmth of her body washed over him, so familiar, so comforting.

They stood like that, in each other's embrace. They didn't move. Their breathings forming a rhythm, their hearts beating to this music. It was her tears on his neck that made him pull back and meet her gaze. She was smiling through her tears, and it was the most genuine smile he'd seen in a long time. She pressed her lips to him and he kissed her tenderly, gently, until she had to pull away for air.

"You came back" she breathed.

"So did you" he whispered, caressing her cheek, drying her tears.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N** : I can't believe this is the last time I'm going to write an A/N for this story. Wow. It's been an amazing ride, and you all made it possible. Thank you for everyone who helped me work out this story. Thank you for all of you who reviewed, every single update, keeping me going with this, making me so so so happy. Thank you for being patient, and tolerating my delayed updates. This is the last and final chapter of this story (for real), and I hope I gave you an appropriate closure. Do leave your reviews, because, as always, they are the best. And stay tuned, I have so much more stories to come (planned, anyway. Time is still a large issue!). Thank you again, you're amazing!

* * *

 _McCord Residence, January 13_ _th_ _, 2017, 07:32_

"Blueberries or chocolate?" he asked as she walked down the stairs into the kitchen.

Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms around his body. "You" her lips touched his softly, pulling him to her.

"And what will the kids have?" he giggled, pecking her lips as his arms hesitantly wrapped around her. She watched as he scanned her, looking for any sign of discomfort. But she settled further into his embrace, her body relaxed against his like it hasn't been _since_. A wide smile spread across her lips, making him smile too, like fools in love.

"Honestly, after 3 weeks of my cooking, I think they'll be happy with an unburnt toast". Laughing, he kissed her again, deeper this time, his tongue and his hands moving together, needing to touch, to _feel_ every part of her.

"Are you sure you have to go to work today?" he asked as he pulled away for air, still circling her in his arms.

"Yes" she sighed, "but I hope to be home early. And we have the entire weekend". He nodded and offered a sad smile. He wanted to spend the day with her. Heck, he wanted to spend every second with her. It was the first time, standing in their kitchen that morning, that he felt like he finally got her back. And he didn't want to let go. "I'll be back as soon as I can" she promised, as if reading the thoughts that crossed his mind, "I will".

Too busy making out, breakfast was forgotten. It was also why they didn't notice their children standing on the stairs, watching them. They usually interrupted, a disgust look on their faces, whining about their parents' show of affection for one another. But on that morning, it was all the reassurance they needed for so long, and there was nothing they wanted more than to wake up to the image of them so in love with each other. It wasn't that they didn't trust their mom when she promised they were not breaking up, but seeing them, like an image from better times, it was more real than any promises. It was Henry who felt their presence, making him break their kiss. Her back was turned to them and a questioning look appeared on her face. "We have company" he whispered, motioning to the stairs. She ducked her head as she felt the crimson covered her cheeks.

"Morning guys" she turned, moving, reluctantly, from his embrace. "Look who's home".

Running down the stairs, they rushed over to him, wrapping their arms around him as he picked them all in a big hug. And as he served them with breakfast, she felt Stevie's hand touch hers, a knowing smile on her face, an unspoken bond they shared.

 _McCord Residence, January 14_ _th_ _, 2017, 09:08_

He flickered his eyes open, focusing his vision. The room was still quite dark, only a glimpse of the sun threatening to enter the bedroom through the curtains. The house was quiet and the only sound was that of her slow, steady breath. He looked down at the sleeping beauty, curled up in his arms, sleeping peacefully. And then it hit him, like a wave of panic washing over him. _Did I pull her? Did I force her into my arms? Did I hurt her in my sleep?_ He wanted so badly to remember when exactly during the night he left the hold of her hand and pulled her to lie in his embrace. But his mind was blank. The only thing he could remember was waking up, just seconds ago, after what might have been the best sleep he had in a very long time. He tried to move, to shift from under her, too afraid to wake her up, to make her realize what he had done. But she just tightened her grip of him, and opening her eyes slowly, she looked at him, a lazy smile on her face that disappeared the minute she caught his look.

"Elizabeth, baby, I'm so sorry".

Sitting, she shifted, distancing herself from him. "You don't… This doesn't feel right to you?"

"What?"

"Us, waking up like this, is it that wrong?" the tears that pulled in her eyes blurred her vision and she blinked them away, not bothering to reach and wipe those who rolled down her cheeks.

"Baby, there's nothing I want more than to wake up like this, but not _like this_ , not by forcing it, again".

"Henry, you didn't force anything. I didn't even realize we shifted and settled that way. And waking up, it was the most comfortable thing in the world, to be in your arms". She paused, letting her words sink in, her mind processing what had happened. "You think… It's always going to be there, between us, this thing that happened. You're always going to wonder if I'm okay with the normal things we do, with being just us. You're always going to be afraid, cautious".

"Elizabeth, I don't want to hurt you".

"But you are" she whispered, looking at him with teary eyes. The look of pain returned to his face so quick it felt as if it was all a dream. "I need us to go back to normal. I need you to stop treating me like you're going to break me. And I need this to stop being there _all the time_. I need us back again, Henry".

He took her hand in his and pulled her back to lie in his embrace, wrapping strong arms around her. He rubbed her skin and kissed the top of her head, inhaling the smell of her that he loved so much. "I need something too" he said and she immediately moved to meet his eyes. "I need you to promise me that no matter what, you will tell me if something is too much, if you don't want me to touch you or to kiss you or whatever. I need to know that if you don't want it, you will voice it. I need to know that you will never feel like you have to do something, just because we are _us_ again".

"Deal" she nodded and he smiled at her, his fingers moving in her golden locks, settling on her neck and pulling her to his lips.

"So um…" he trailed as they cuddled under the covers. Nestled in his arms, he pulled her back to rest against his chest as his hands encircled her. His chin was resting on her shoulder, providing him with clear view to the delicate features of her face. Her eyes moved just enough so she looked at him, urging him on, listening attentively to the words he had to say. "I went to a rape center. When I was in Chicago, I went".

"I'm listening".

"You're okay with this? With me going?"

Her expression turned serious as her eyes met his again. "Henry, this happened to you too. And we both have to heal. Together, but also separately. You are the only person who needs to be okay with you going there. If this is what _you_ want, nothing else matters".

"How are you so perfect and still mine, I will never know". She giggled at his words, snuggling closer to him. "Funny thing is, she said exactly what you said before. That healing is also moving forward. That it will always be a part of our lives, just like so many other things that became a part of our lives. And while they might define some parts of who we are, they are not _all_ that we are. It's not all that _you are_ ".

"Of course not, I'm the Secretary of State" she smirked and he laughed, moving his hands to tickle her sides, eliciting a loud laugh from her as she turned and tried to move from his touch. "Stop!" she laughed, pushing his hands away.

Moving his hands from her, he rested on his side, cherishing the beautiful sight of her laughter. "You are my wife, and it's all I could ever ask for".

"Oh you're good" she giggled, pressing her lips to his.

 _McCord Residence, February 14_ _th_ _, 2017, 20:03_

"You are right in time" he said as he greeted her with a kiss, pulling her in for a hug.

"In time for what?"

"There are Orchids, candles, red wine and your favorite meal, all waiting for your arrival. So, Elizabeth McCord, will you be my valentine tonight?"

Taking a moment to think, a coy smile slowly crept up her lips. "Well Professor, I believed I vowed a long time ago to forever be your valentine".

Smirking, he pressed his lips to hers, making her moan softly into his mouth. "After you Mrs. McCord" he gestured the way to their dining room. Taking his hand in hers, she walked over to find the room lit with candles, the light dim. A bouquet of pink and white Orchids stood in a clear vase in the middle of the table, next to it a bottle of her favorite red wine and two glasses. And the food – the pot of cheese Fondue was placed on the table between their two seats, and a plate of goods to dip inside. In the corner of her eye she noticed the pot of chocolate Fondue for later, with the strawberries and her favorite cookies. She grinned, joy spreading across her face. "You" she said, placing her arms around him and holding tight, "are perfect".

"You deserve nothing less than the very best" he whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek.

Taking their places at the table, she began eating while he watched her and chuckled at the sounds of appreciation that were coming from her mouth. "Good?" he asked.

"Dig in and find for yourself" she smirked, handing him the fork.

After spending their dinner talking about everything and nothing at all, they moved to settle on the couch in the living room. Sitting next to him, their lips traced soft kisses against each other's, a gentle touch carrying so many feelings. Slowly, she darted her tongue into his mouth, their kiss becoming more heated as she moved closer to sit on his lap. "Babe" he breathed, breaking their kiss as he felt himself getting too lost in her.

"Take me to bed" she muttered, her fingers moving in his hair, desperate to pull him back to her.

"Baby, I…"

"Henry. I want this. And I made you a promise. I will tell you. I will".

He looked at her one last time. Her bright blue eyes calming his worries, letting him know that this was her own wish, her own choice. He stood, picking her up with him as her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands around his neck. She was so light, it surprised him every single time. He carried her up the stairs, their gazes never leaving each other, promising, silently reassuring. In their closed bedroom, he stripped her naked slowly, his eyes roaming her naked form, the sight of the scars being a reminder. He followed the prints with his fingers, learning them, memorizing. Getting to know her body all over again, as if it was their first time together. She watched him, her eyes following his every move as goosebumps covered her skin, awakening to his gentle touch. They moved slowly, carefully. He was hesitant, needing the constant confirmation that she was okay, that she still wanted it. When he pressed inside of her she gasped loudly, her hands pulling at the hair on the back of his neck, her eyes shut tight. He kissed her then, slow and soft, always so gentle with his touch, being the solid proof of his love for her. "I love you" he whispered when her eyes opened.

Pressing their bodies together, she smiled. "Love you too" she mumbled, urging him to move against her. Quiet moans filled the room as sweat covered their bodies. He kissed her lips countless of times, moving to her neck before returning to devour her mouth, her sounds dying on his lips. He felt her tremble under his weight and opened his eyes to see the pleasure washing over her, her face radiant as her cries echoed in his ears. She had come undone under his touch, allowing him to lead her to the place that belonged only to _them_. He collapsed on top of her, his lips pressing to the soft skin behind her ear as they both struggled for a breath. With her arms still wrapped around his body, she pulled him closer, his weight being her solace, her guard. His presence curing all aches, forming a new vivid memory against her damaged skin.

He shifted, needing to look at her, to see that nothing changed in her eyes, that it was still _okay_. She turned her head shyly, as if embarrassed suddenly, feeling exposed. "Hey" his fingers moved to her chin, lifting her head to meet his eyes, "talk to me".

"You brought me back to life" she whispered, tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "You were here, through every struggle, and you brought me back to life. And you allowed me to feel _loved_ again, and cherished, and honored. You reminded me of _us_ , and god knows how much I needed that".

"So why the tears, sweetheart?"

"Tears of joy" she smiled, "I'm happy. And I love you so much".

Kissing her again before moving to circle her as she fell asleep, he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, making her giggle as his warm breath tickled her skin. "You are my all" he muttered, watching her eyes closing, a smile spread on her lips.

 _McCord Residence, March 29_ _th_ _, 2017, 05:38_

She heaved, sitting up in bed, her eyes wide open. She sucked in air, trying to catch a breath as she rubbed her eyes to the slightly darkened room. He awoke to the sound of her shallow breaths, to her shifting out of his embrace. He took one look at her and realized she had a nightmare, his features wearing the sight of concern. It's been so long since, and it felt like everything was normal again, as if they could finally call this _the past_. He rested his hand on the small of her back, "baby, just a dream, come here". But she moved from his touch, shaking his hand off of her body.

"Please, no" she pleaded, her arms moving to wrap around herself, protecting, shielding.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, his eyes fixated on her, his every move calculated, trying not to startle her.

"Nothing… I… Wait it out with me?" a broken, unsteady voice left her mouth, shedding tears.

"Always" he whispered, offering her his hand and intertwining their fingers together as she accepted his hold.

~.~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~.~

" _Hold on_

 _We can make it through the fire_

 _And my love_

 _I'm forever by your side_

 _And you know_

 _If you should ever call my name_

 _I'll be right there_

 _You'll never be alone" – Anastacia_

 _ **~Fin~**_


End file.
